Misadventures of Merlin
by melissakay
Summary: The kindom of Come-a-lot used to be a peaceful little hamlet. until now. Will Gaius get his lecherous hands on Merlin? Will Morgana ever get that chastity belt off? And who the hell invited that annoying bint Kesha? All will be revealed...
1. Chapter 1

**The Misadventures of Merlin**

_Disclaimer: The author accepts no responsibility for an__y misrepresentation of the characters within, as they all (apart from maybe Gaius) are figures of myth and legend, not solely the property of the BBC and those who play them – namely, Colin Morgan, Angel Coulby, Bradley James and Anthony Head. However, if you wish to have their faces in your head as you read this, feel free. They _are _a hell of a lot prettier than the cast of the mini-series starring Sam Neill! _

**Setting the scene: ****Merlin is a young warlock who has to hide his magical powers from his employers at Come-a-lot as the King, Uther Pendragon, is a paranoid schizophrenic who hates witchcraft with a passion. He also hates germs, too, but since he can't cut **_**their**_** heads off, he takes it out on his constituents with gusto. Anyway, I'm getting off the point here. Merlin's destiny is tied up in protecting Uther's son Arthur from getting his stubborn arse killed – a full time job when your charge keeps putting his head on the chopping block against killer wraith knights and falling in love with murderous wenches. Merlin is helped by loyal bit of rough trade whoops pervy old man whoops court physician Gaius, as well as the promiscuous and very saucy seamstress / part-time arms dealer Gwen and her boss, the beautiful but icy Morgana, whom it is rumoured has worn a chastity belt all her twenty-nine years because her father lost the key before he died in battle. **

**Episode 1 – King Arthur… Not!**

It is midnight**. **All is quiet in the peaceful kingdom of Come-a-lot. The only noises that can be heard are the occasional screams from the dungeon below the castle where unfortunates are being tortured with gramophone records of Justin Beiber; and a couple of cats screwing out in the courtyard.

Morgana, the king's beautiful adopted daughter, is having a particularly bad night. She tosses and turns, disturbed by visions of her brother Arthur usurping Daddy to the throne and forcing all women to wear Princess Leia-like bikinis in his presence. She wouldn't put it past him, because that's just the kind of guy he was. Also, her visions tended to have an accuracy rate of about 99.98%. Damn it, she thinks, rolling onto her right side for the umpteenth time that hour. I wonder if Gaius is up? I could really do with one of his super-handy sleeping draughts…

Opening her eyes, her vision first blurs, then clears – and she lets out an almighty scream, the likes of which could outdo Freddy of the Five-Finger-Discount down in the dungeon.

'Hi'. Gaius, the court physician – an old man with a super-long face and last season's hair – smiles down at her, waving his arthritic fingers in greeting. His robe hangs open and Morgana turns away in disgust. 'Ew, put it away, put it away!' she cries. 'I don't want to see it!'

'It's just my wand, dear' Gaius tries telling her. 'I thought you might be having trouble sleeping so I tucked my wand into my jammies so I could bring this to you'. He holds out a small brown bottle and a medicine cup. 'Your draught; my dear'.

'Oh…' Morgana turns back toward the wizened old man and takes her medicine eagerly, guzzling down the bottle of sleeping potion like Ben Cousins on a caffeine bender. He barely has time to warn her about the effects of drinking the whole bottle before she drops back down onto her pillow, and lets out a resounding snore.

Gaius stares down at the young beauty with her raven hair and perfect, snow-white skin, and is reminded of someone else. He turns and heads out the door for his chambers, his lust rekindled. Ah, but the night _is_ young…

Arthur Pendragon sits on his bed, penning his memoirs into a leather-bound notebook. It's likely to be a short story, as he's only just turned 21, but he figures if he doesn't get a start on it now, his cousin Gawain would beat him to the punch, and Gawain had bedded far less wenches than he, Arthur – so had less to reminisce about. Gawain was a huge liar, though, and tended to take credit for stuff he didn't do. So it would be just typical if he got his autobiography published first. The pompous prat was always trying to be the first to do things. Arthur snorted in derision at the empty room. First to go hunting for the Holy Grail… first to get his jousting licence… first, even, to join the Knights of the Kind-of-Round-but-Slightly-Oblong Table. First before Arthur, even, and Arthur was the king's son, God-damn it! It just wasn't right.

Then again, the old man had always favoured Gawain over Arthur. Treated him like he was his son, which grated Arthur's cheese; no end. I just _have_ to get my book published first, Arthur thinks, as his quill flies over the papyrus. That'll show the poncy git who's boss around here! Me, Arthur Pendragon, future king of Come-a-lot, future husband of the gorgeous and very randy Gwen…

He is disturbed by a funny scratching sound coming from under his bed. Frowning, he puts his quill and notebook on the bedside table, and leans over, hanging his blonde head mere inches from the floor in an attempt to see under the bed.

A small box sits just beyond reach under the bed. The scratching noise is coming from inside the box. Intrigued, Arthur gets down on all fours on the floor and reaches for it. Just as his fingers touch the lid, the box snaps at him. Arthur hisses and pulls his hand back. Great, he thinks. It's bloody enchanted. I _hate_ magical, enchanted objects! They never behave the way you want them to. Even when they're supposed to be on your side.

'Now, come on' he says to the box, in his most charming, hopefully persuasive voice, 'You've obviously been left here for a reason. And that reason is for me to find you, right? So how about coming over here, like a good, _friendly_ box…'

The box moves back a couple of inches. Arthur groans. 'Oh well… do you what you like, then' he grumbles, and climbs back onto his bed. 'What do I care? Merlin will probably find you when he gets around to sweeping the floor…pfft… in the next _century_… so you'll be under there for a while, I'm thinking. Whatever's in you will probably shrivel up and die, by then. But I don't give a fat rat's clacker. Do you hear me? I _don't _care'.

The scratching noise begins again, in earnest. Arthur rolls his eyes and signs. 'Will you cut that out? If you're not going to let me open you, I don't want to know'.

"Aaaarthur" says a whispery voice, from under the bed. "Aaaaaaarthur…."

'Oh, all right, all _right_! But if you try to bite my fingers off again, it's the dumpster for you' he warns, kneeling beside the bed and reaching for the elusive box. Jesus Christ, he thinks, this better be worth it! Sweeping a hand around the box, he cleverly avoids the sharp looking clasp in front, and pulls the box, which is about the size of a cake of soap, out from under the bed. Blowing on it to clean off the dust bunnies, he makes a mental note to send Merlin to the stocks again for his frankly, shitty effort at housekeeping.

'Now' he instructs the box, 'Behave, will you? I'm missing valuable writing time here. Gawain's probably got three or four chapters on me, now'.

This time the little pale blue box co-operates, allowing Arthur to push the lid back on its hinges. And before his eyes a faerie, about the size of a clothes peg, stands up and rubs her lower back, her tiny face screwed up in pain. 'Argh' she complains in a surprisingly deep voice for a creature her size, 'Bloody sciatica! You try sitting doubled over in this thing for hours on end. It'd make _you_ grumpy, too'.

'I have no doubt. Who sent you?'

'Well! Like to get to the point, don't we?' she replies, crabbily. 'Okay… look. I was delivered here by magic. Yes, magic. Someone heard your call. They want what you want. An end to Uther's tyrannical reign over Come-a-lot. A return to the old ways. You, Arthur, are the only person who can overthrow the king. We want to help you'.

Arthur frowns, thoughtfully. 'Who do you work for? My father has enemies all over the place. Or at least, he _thinks_ he does. He's pretty paranoid, these days'.

'No, actually, he does' the faerie confirmed. 'Heard the old saying, just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean they're _not_ out to get you? Well, they're all out to get him'. She stretches her tiny arms over her head, going on-point like a ballerina in her little dress, which looked to Arthur like the petals of a white rose. 'Sorry' she says, 'I'm just getting off on finally having some room to stretch out! You really don't spend much time in your chambers, do you?'

'How long have you been in that box?'

'All day, by my reckoning' she grumbles. 'Oh, I heard someone shuffling about earlier and humming Summer Holiday by Cliff Richard, but I figured it wasn't you. It sounded like a _way _older person. Like maybe your old man, or that pervert you call a doctor'.

Gaius? Arthur thinks, puzzled. Why on earth would Gaius be in here? Unless he was looking for something... Nosy old coot! Now that I think about it, he _does_ have some pretty awful taste in music. The Carpenters, The Best of Barry White… I wouldn't put it past him to listen to Cliff Richard…

'Excuse me for interrupting your thinking, I know its slow going in there' the faerie says, rudely. 'But I don't have all bloody night. I moonlight as a tooth fairy, you know'.

'So what is it you want, exactly?' Arthur asks. 'What is the purpose of all this?'

'_Finally_ he asks the right question' the faerie says, throwing up her hands in exasperation. 'Well. It's like this. I have the ability to summon whatever supreme being you wish, to help you dethrone the old man. I personally have the pager numbers for all the gods you can think of. Hades, Zeus, Hecate, Diana, Eris…'

'Eris?' Arthur interrupts. 'Never heard of him'.

'Her' the faerie corrects him. 'It's a her, and she won't take kindly to being mistaken for a bloke. In fact, she's a rather vain piece of work. But she gets the job done. She's the Goddess of Chaos and Disorder. Just the thing you need, wouldn't you say?'

Arthur pouts. 'I don't know. What does she do?'

The faerie blows a raspberry. 'What _doesn't _she do? She can influence the weather, the tides, the god-damn cycles of the moon, if she wants! If you want your old man out of the picture, off this mortal coil, she's the one who can get it done. Heck she can summon a tornado to wipe him right off his smug arse and out the gates of Come-a-lot forever, if that's really what you want'.

'Blimey' says Arthur, impressed. 'That sounds like a plan'.

The faerie rolls her eyes. 'They said you'd be easily pleased'.

Gaius stares down at his young protégé, the boy who is destined to bring about the unification of Come-a-lot and you don't give a shit about that boring stuff, so I'll get to the point. He lets out a tiny sigh and tilts his head to the side, as the moon pulls a swiftie and hides behind a cloud. Now the room is in darkness and he can no longer see Merlin's face, with its perfect bone structure and pouty lips. He was just imagining those lips wrapped around… argh… he's waking up, Gaius realises, and in a move more reminiscent of his younger days, ducks to his knees before Merlin could open those big, blue eyes of his and catch him staring longingly…

But it was a false alarm. A bit of an eyelid flutter; nothing to worry about. The lad must be dreaming, Gaius thinks, relief flooding through him. Still, I'd better not hang around. In a couple of hours it'll be daylight and if I don't pop off to bed now, I'll never get any sleep. And then where would the royal family be, without their trusty physician at his sharpest?

Gaius reluctantly pulls his hand out of the waistband of his grubby pyjama pants, takes one more look at the sleeping boy-wizard (who was a hundred times hotter than that Harry Potter kid, in his estimation) and shuffles off, on his knees, toward his chambers, and the dark dreams of a man who hasn't had sex in a long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long…. You get the idea. A long time.

'Gwen, get my cloak for me'.

A _please_ wouldn't go astray, Morgana's handmaiden thinks, as she pins the last rosette on a dress she's making for Her Nibs. Jeez, sometimes these bloody royals can be so rude and unappreciative of all the trouble we go to, as servants! I wonder what they'd do if we formed a union and went on strike?

Guinevere, or Gwen as she was known to her friends, father and employers at the castle, sighs and goes to do her Lady's bidding. Morgana is standing in front of a full length mirror, as usual, pouting in that way she has when she knows how beautiful she is but is considering pointing out an imagined flaw just so Gwen would gush and reassure her that it was all in her mind. Really, the lengths I go to, she thinks, for the extra tips!

Settling Morgana's deep green cloak around her shoulders, she smiles at her boss's reflection. 'There. Perfection, wouldn't you say?'

'Oh Gwen' Morgana giggled, 'You do flatter me so'.

Gwen turns her back and makes a face, pulling at a corner of her mouth with her finger, like a fish-hook. 'It's only the truth, my Lady' she replies, then conveniently changes the subject. 'So, are the knights convening today?'

Morgana grins into the mirror. 'Why, so you can ogle Sir Lancelot? He's supposed to marry a Lady, you know. Not a common serving girl'.

'I'm not common' Gwen pouts. 'How many handmaidens do you know can bash out a suit of armour, sew a dress _and_ be at the beck and call of a Lady all day? Oh, that reminds me. I was going to go and ask the king for a raise'.

Morgana swings around to face her serving girl, her green eyes troubled. '_I_ wouldn't' she advises Gwen. 'Father has been in a really foul mood lately. It's all the talk of a mutiny brewing between the Druids and those kinky lesbian Wicca types in the village. They're planning on storming the castle gates in a so-called peaceful rally about the Prohibition of Magic. Daddy's furious. His blood pressure's right up. I'm worried he's going to have a stroke. Or worse, a psychotic break'.

A stroke is _worse_ than a psychotic break, you dimwit, Gwen thinks, but doesn't say. Not by much, but still, _I_ wouldn't want to have to wait on the old man if he pops a blood vessel and ends up incapacitated in a wheelchair! It's bad enough that he rants and raves like a lunatic in his chambers, convinced that every nobleman in the country is out to usurp him from his throne. He ought to look a little closer to home. Arthur's been trying to kill him for years…. _Ooooh_, _Arthur_…. Gwen allows her mind to wander to the dashing figure perpetually clad in chain mail. To the last time she helped him on with his armour – how she stood up and almost collected her head on his codpiece… Blushing, she crosses the room, unwilling to let Morgana into her thoughts. Her boss could be a little _too_ insightful at times. Better not let her know I'm carrying an Olympic-sized torch for her adoptive brother!

'Okay, well… I suppose I could wait another couple of weeks' Gwen concedes, tucking a pin between her lips as she surveys her handiwork. The dress for the Masquerade Ball was all but done. How she wished she had the time – much less the cash – to make a dress of equal value for herself. She'd just have to turn up in her boring old lilac number, yet again. Don't bet on me waiting _too_ long to ask the old boy for more money, she thinks to herself, narrowing her eyes at Morgana, who was, yet again, staring at her own reflection in the mirror. Risk of stroke or no, he's gonna pay up!

Morgana nods, and glances out the window. 'Ooh… Gwenny… guess who's here? Sir Lancelot…'

But Gwen is already halfway out the door…

'Sir Lancelot, at your service'.

The young, extremely handsome, dark-haired, dark-eyed knight is _certainly_ the catch of the millennium around these parts, Gwen thinks as she feigns nonchalance in floating down the stairs instead of running at her usual full-steam-ahead pace. The one she'd use if it were Arthur at the bottom of the stairs, staring up at her with an adoring expression, instead of dopey-but-gorgeous Lancelot. Reaching him just as King Uther entered the room, Gwen smiles fetchingly and lets her eyes wander down to the hilt of his sword at his hip. 'Ooh...' she whispers, in awe. 'Is that what I think it is? Can I touch it?'

'Guinevere! That's no language for a young lady!' roars Uther, outraged. 'To your chambers, this instant!'

'If you please, my lord… she was talking about my sword. And I don't mean my…' Lancelot stammers, blushing furiously as Gwen wraps her hand around the handle of his sword, achingly close to that other weapon of mass seduction, and pulls it out, gazing at the broadsword as its metal shone in the sun coming through the tall windows.

'All right, all right' Uther says, stopping him in his tracks. 'But no dilly-dallying. We've got a meeting in five minutes. Be sure you're not late'.

'It's _such _a thing of beauty' Gwen marvels, 'But it's no Excalibur'.

'Arthur, Arthur, Arthur' whined Lancelot. 'Do you _still_ have the hots for that jerk? Really, Gwen, when _I_ can give you so much more…'

'I was talking about his _sword_, not him' Gwen corrects him. 'There's a difference'.

'Speak of the devil' Lancelot mutters, 'And he appears'.

Arthur rounds the corner from the kitchen, a chicken drumstick in his hand. 'What's this about a devil?'

'Oh, Arthur' Gwen says, shoving Lancelot's sword back at him, impatiently. 'I finished that new armour for you. If you want to come and try it on this afternoon, I'll be in the stables. You know… _alone_'. She smiles at him, suggestively, trying to ignore the grease from the chicken fat that's dribbling down his manly chin.

Arthur waves the drumstick at her. 'Oh, right. Cool! You can bet I'll be there. I do have some stuff to take care of first, though…'

'Like the meeting' his father cuts in, reminding him. 'Of the Knights of the Kind-of-Round-but-Slightly-Oblong Table that's about to happen, in like…' he checks his watch '…About three minutes time'.

'Yes, Father' Arthur snaps, impatiently. 'I'll be there too. Christ, you people, all trying to get a piece of me! I can't be in three places at once…'

'Then we shall just have to find a way to clone you' Gwen jokes. She steps closer and puts a hand on his chest, over his heart. She can literally feel it beat against her palm and it makes her quiver in places proper little handmaidens shouldn't quiver. 'So we can _all_ have what we want'.

'Gwennie-baby' Arthur replies, winking salaciously at her over the drumstick, 'You _know_ you can have me anytime you want…'

'Arthur!' his father barks. 'Meeting room. Now. On the double!'

Arthur makes a face, flings the chicken drumstick to the floor then hollers for his manservant, the cute but scatterbrained Merlin, to come and clean it up. Merlin all but falls through the door, predictably tripping on the drumstick, and lands at Arthur's feet. 'For God's sake, get up you clumsy fool' Arthur groans. 'Why I keep you around as a servant…'

'Uh-uh' Merlin interjects, '_Man_-servant'

'_Man_-servant' Arthur adds, rolling his bright blue eyes in Gwen's direction, for her amusement. 'When there are plenty more capable serfs in the village, I'll never know. I bet half of them could manage to sweep floors better than you can'.

'I'm sorry, Sir…'

'And dust shelves…'

'Absolutely…'

'And muck out stables…'

'I get your point!' Merlin grumbles, heading for the broom closet. 'I'm right on it'.

Surveying the small cluster of hopefuls for the vacancy of 9th knight of Come-a-lot (one of the agendas of the excruciatingly boring meeting earlier), who were warming their hands over a fire-pit in the courtyard, Arthur scoffs to himself. Freaking pansies! If they were any kind of _real_ men they wouldn't be out there, huddled together like a flock of penguins! Time to break up this little mother's club. I'll sort the boys from the men…

'Sire…'

Arthur turns at the sound of the voice. It was his servant – sorry, _man_servant - Merlin, carrying a bucket of dirty water. Ah, he's finally gotten around to mopping the foyer, Arthur thinks. It's about time! 'Did you clean my chambers?' he asks of Merlin.

Merlin nods. 'That's why I'm here. The faerie who was in that little box on your dresser told me she'd gotten in touch with someone called Eris and that she and her handmaiden would be here, at the gates of Come-a-lot, tomorrow morning. Really, Arthur, the poor thing had a _terrible_ back-ache! Did you have to leave her in there all day yesterday?'

'I had no idea she was even there' Arthur snaps, crossly. 'Don't blame me. She never even told me who she works for! And I gave her a nice little hanky and the lining from my cigar-box to make a bed out of. She shouldn't have anything to bitch about now'.

'Who _is_ Eris, anyhow?' Merlin wanted to know. 'I've never heard of her. Is she a princess?'

'Actually, she's a God' Arthur says in a low voice. 'You mustn't repeat anything I'm about to tell you, you hear? It's a secret'.

Merlin raises an already arched eyebrow. 'A God? You're not messing with the forces of evil in a bid to become king again, are you sir? I don't think His Excellence will be at _all _pleased…'

Arthur narrows his blue eyes and sticks out his chin, defiantly. 'I could do a _way _better job than Father. He has promised me Come-a-lot for years and has never delivered. Honestly, Merlin, I don't think he's _ever_ going to retire! So I'm just going to have to give him a gentle push. That's what Eris is for'.

'But a _God_? Isn't that overkill?'

'No, Merlin' Arthur assures him. 'It's just exactly the right amount of kill'.

The two young men turn and glance at the knights standing by the fire-pit. 'They all look pretty scared, Arthur' Merlin points out. 'Your reputation precedes you'.

'That it does' Arthur smiles, knowingly. 'And for good reason. I'm going to put these screaming namby-pambies through their paces. If you don't want to see a bunch of grown men cry, you better hop along, Merlin. You still have to muck out the stables and polish my arm… oh shit!' He puts a hand over his mouth. 'I'm due at the stables at one o'clock. Um… to meet Gwen… she wants me to try on my new armour. Could you tell her I'm going to be a little bit late?'

'Of course, Sire' Merlin says, with a funny kind of grin on his face. 'I'll let her know'.

Arthur frowns at him. 'Why are you smiling like that?' he asks. 'There's nothing going on between me and Gwen'.

'No. Nothing at all' Merlin says, in that cheeky way of his. Arthur's frown gets deeper. He remembers Gwen saying how she thought Merlin's chin dimple was sexy, and he had to point out that it was a scar from the time he had to practice knife-throwing and Merlin happened to be the only person around to practice on. But the girl still sighed and said something along the lines of, 'That just makes it sexier! Scars are _so_ hot'. Really, Arthur had thought. You just can't win with women, sometimes!

'So? What are you still standing around for?'

Merlin takes off as fast as his skinny legs can take him, and Arthur turns toward the men waiting to try out for the position of knight. 'All right, you lot' he yells. 'Drop and give me twenty!'

'Twenty what, Sire?' one of them asks.

'Twenty sit-ups, you moron! And when you're finished with those you can do twenty push-ups. On your knuckles. Then…'

'Uh… Sir?' A man with a shock of red hair interrupts. 'My name is Seamus McPhee. I was just wondering if King Uther was going to be present at the try-outs. We _will_ be protecting him, whoever wins, so…'

'Silence!' Arthur shouts. 'No, King Uther retired to his chambers this afternoon with a headache. He trusts my judgement, and I'm to be your leader anyway, so what I say goes!'

The men grumble amongst themselves for a few seconds, and then seeing Arthur was dead serious, drop to the ground and try to master sit-ups in full armour and chain mail. Not an easy feat for the fittest of men, but Arthur knew that. Suddenly there was a tug on his sleeve. Arthur turns to find Sir Galahad standing beside him. 'Oh, Galahad' he says. 'Here to check out the contenders?'

'Yes, Sire. But I feel I must warn you, there's rumour of dissension in the ranks. A few of the boys think you go too hard on the young fellows. They sent me down to make sure you don't… um, you know… _kill_ anyone. Accidentally, of course'.

'Believe me' Arthur replies, 'the only one getting killed in this scenario is sixty-five in the shade and _way_ overdue for retirement'.

'Gaius?'

'No, my old man, you nitwit!' Arthur says, rolling his eyes. 'Get with the program! I've got a very special visitor coming by tomorrow. She should help with the whole bloodless coup thing'.

'Oh, so you got in touch with that Julia Gillard chick?'

Arthur groans. Really, the stupidity of some people! 'No, I'm going way over Gillard's head! You'll see. In the meantime, the less I say, the better' he sighs, wistfully. 'If everything goes to plan, this kingdom will be _mine_! Mwah-ha-ha!' He pauses for a second. Galahad looks scared. Arthur puts a hand over his mouth. 'Oh shit, I didn't just say that out loud, did I?'

'Uh, yes sir… I'm afraid you did' says Galahad, quivering in fear.

Arthur pats him on the back. 'That's okay, old chap. I'm sure we can forget this conversation ever happened. Let's see, what's it worth to you, to keep your mouth shut?'

'Hmm… Oh… I know! How about a date with that luscious sister of yours?'

'Morgana? You fancy _her_?' Arthur says, looking grossed out. 'She's my _sister_!'

'Yeah' Galahad says, grinning, 'But she's not _my_ sister, is she?' He nudges Arthur and winks. 'You could throw in some cash for a limousine and tickets to the theatre. I was thinking maybe, Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants?'

'That's still in the theatres?'

'It's the musical version' Galahad informs him. 'And I hear there's a nude scene'.

'Morgana won't go for that. She's totally frigid' Arthur warns him. 'Anything to do with sex and she totally goes red as a beetroot. You heard the rumour, right?'

'About her old man? The chastity belt thing?'

'Yeah'

'Of course' Galahad grins. 'Why do you think I did that locksmith course?'

Arthur guffaws, and claps his friend and fellow knight on the back. 'You old dog! Clever like a fox, you are! Well, all right. How does fifty bucks sound?'

'Fifty bucks won't even get us a taxi into town' Galahad reminds him. 'Jeez, you really have lost touch with the common people, haven't you? A _hundred _and fifty would be closer to the mark'.

'All right, all right' Arthur says. 'As long as you don't mention that certain conversation we had earlier, to anyone'.

'What conversation?' Galahad asks. No really. He actually _has_ forgotten by now. His brain is the size of a peanut. And as far as short term memory goes…

'Good man' Arthur says. 'Now let me get back to these jokers, will you? Can you believe I have to pick a knight out of this bunch? Really… they couldn't hit water if they fell out of a boat'.

Galahad chuckled and turned to watch the try-outs. 'Imagine what you can do when all this is yours, Sire' he says. 'Add magic to the mix – because once you're in charge, you can abolish that stupid no magic rule – and you've got an army fit for a king'.

Arthur sighs again. 'I can't _wait_ to be king…'

Galahad glances at him, and looks over at Lancelot, who's just arrived, along with Arthur's oafish cousin Gawain. 'That sounds like the opening to a jaunty musical interlude, boys' he says, with a wink.

'Cool' says Lancelot.

'Right on' says Gawain.

Arthur is still standing there, looking dreamily up at the flags on the turrets, flapping in the wind. He imagines his face on them all. Suddenly, he opens his mouth, and out comes…

I'm gonna be the ruler  
Of most everything around  
From the grandest of the mountains  
To the humble common ground  
My reign will be a super awesome thing  
Oh, I just can't wait to be king

_(in the midst of all this, the knights have linked arms, and are doing the can-can with all their might)_

No one saying do this  
No one saying be there  
No one saying stop that _(he gives one of the potential knights an atomic wedgie)  
_No one saying see here

_("Now see here" says Galahad, in exasperation)  
_Free to run around all day  
Free to do it all **my way**

_(Galahad looks a little worried at this point but doesn't interrupt Arthur from going into the second verse)_

It's easy to be royal if you're already leonine  
It isn't just my right even my left will be divine  
The monarchy is waiting to go _zing_  
Oh i just can't wait to be king…

Oh I just can't _waaaaait,_ to be kiiiing….'

_(Arthur has his sword in hand and accidentally chops off the end of Seamus McPhee'__s beard; twirls to face his audience and gives a gracious bow). _

Galahad looks at Lancelot and says, in a low voice, 'I've got a _baaad_ feeling about this'.

Merlin finds Gwen in the stable, hammering out a sword on her anvil. She looks peeved. Merlin stands back as there are sparks coming off the sword; she's hitting it so hard. 'What's the matter, Gwen?' he asks, wincing. 'I'd hate to be that sword you're going mental on'.

'Bloody Arthur!' she snarls. 'Bloody men! You can't trust them, any of them!'

'Hey' says Merlin, indignantly. 'Man here, remember?'

Gwen goes on as if she didn't hear him. 'I mean, you throw yourself at their mercy, tell them that you'd do _anything_ for them, and what do they do? Huh?'

Merlin holds out the plate with the jam sandwich he'd prepared for himself. 'Want a sanga?'

Gwen grabs the sandwich in a tight fist, and holds it up, ignoring the fact that the jam is trickling down between the webs of her fingers and down her wrist. 'I swear, if that jumped-up excuse for a prince doesn't get his arse down here RIGHT NOW I'll go and… and… join a convent! No more men for me! _Ever_!' A vein throbs visibly in her forehead. Shit, Merlin thinks. She's really serious this time! He approaches her, with caution. 'Um… actually… Arthur sent me here with a message for you'.

Gwen blinks, and lowers the sandwich. 'Oh yeah? What did he have to say for himself?'

'He says he'll be a little late', Merlin replies. 'But he _is_ coming' he adds, hastily.

'He better' she says, appearing to calm down slightly. 'If I have to marry that brain-dead gimp Lancelot I think I'll offer myself up to medical science'. She grins. 'Or Gaius'.

Merlin makes a face. '_Ew_! Like, don't even go there'.

'You know he's got the hots for you, don't you?'

Merlin puts his hands over his ears and starts humming The Battle Hymn of the Republic rather loudly.

'Okay, okay I get the hint' Gwen laughs. 'I won't mention it again'.

Merlin stops humming, drops his hands and instead starts singing "Gwen and Arthur sitting in a tree… K I S S I N…'

And Gwen throws the remainder of the jam sandwich at him before he can finish the immature little schoolyard ditty.

Uther sits up as Gaius enters his chambers. 'Oh, it's about time', the grumpy king says. 'Have you got anything for a headache? I feel like there's a jackhammer going off in my skull.'

'Why of course, my Lord' Gaius says. 'Take off your shirt'.

Uther looks puzzled. 'But why? What does taking off my shirt have to do with a headache?'

'Absolutely nothing' Gaius says, winking salaciously. 'I just want to get my rocks off'.

Uther rolls his eyes. 'Jesus old man, you need a prostitute'.

'Point taken' says Gaius. He waits as Uther sheds his cheesecloth shirt; then gives him a headache draught. 'Drink it all' he orders. 'It won't work if you go at it half-arsed'.

Uther looks at him, suspiciously. 'You're not trying to poison me are you, old man?'

'If I was trying to poison you, you'd know it' Gaius tells him, not the least bit insulted at the insinuation. After all he was used to Uther's paranoid; "the world's out to get me" crap. 'Now drink up'.

Uther grimaces at the taste, holds his nose and downs the lot in one gulp. Throwing aside the goblet, he falls backward onto his pillow, completely unconscious in seconds flat. 'Ah-ha' says Gaius, rubbing his calloused hands together.

'Time to test The Rack'.

Arthur knocks on the already open door to the stables where Gwen is sitting polishing a chest plate. She looks up, and the expression of annoyance on her face turns to joy. 'You came!'

'Well', Arthur says, with a grin, 'Not yet, but… if you play your cards right…'

'Oh very funny' says Gwen, blushing furiously. 'How about trying on your new armour, first?'

'I _could_ do that, but don't you think we've wasted enough time, already?'

Gwen throws down the chest plate and runs to him, eagerly. Before she could get her dirty little mitts on him (and they _were _dirty, covered in soot from working at the anvil) he picks her up in a fireman's hold and carried her to a hay bale in the corner of the first stall. It was probably lucky Morgana had taken her favourite horse for a run, or they would have dropped trou right in the middle of the stables, they're both so horny!

Within minutes, Arthur has Gwen moaning his name, and doesn't hear someone sneaking up behind them. He also doesn't hear the click of a camera's shutter going off; or the maniacal chuckle of the person behind the lens. No, while buried in the throes of passion, and also about a tonne of straw, all Arthur hears is the sound of his and Gwen's heavy breathing.

The camera man lowers his instrument of evil and grins, one of his gold teeth gleaming. Arthur Pendragon was going to rue the day he told the News of the World to go fuck themselves…

Uther's vision appears clouded; then as his focus returns, he recognises the hideous burnt orange shag pile carpet on the wall of the dungeon, a kind of cheap soundproofing held over from the days his great, great grandfather used to torture people for fun and profit. Now of course, it was entirely Gaius's domain, because he was the only one sick and twisted enough to get off on torture. Speaking of which, Uther is steadily coming to realise that he is no longer lying horizontally, the way he'd fallen asleep. He appears strapped to a vertical gurney, like Hannibal Lector in his favourite movie, Silence of the Lambs; his arms down by his sides and his head fixed to the platform via a leather strap around his forehead. Panicking, his eyes dart around the room, taking in the hanging light bulb Gaius had installed to make the place look dank and spooky; and the "interrogation chair" some feet in front of him. A bucket sits on the chair, but Uther can't see what's in it.

Suddenly the old healer is in front of him, inches from his face, and if Uther could have turned his head to get away from the smell of rotting meat wafting from Gauis's maw, he would have. 'Good God, man' he cried. 'Brush your teeth!'

'Oh, I'm sorry' Gaius mocks. 'Does my terrible dental health bother you? I asked you to add a dental plan to my workplace agreement years ago, but you were far too cheap. So this is what you get for being such a tight-arse'.

Uther grimaces. 'It doesn't take a lot of money to invest in some Listerine'.

'No, maybe not, but it tastes disgusting. Have you ever tried it?'

'Better than the rotting carcass that curled up and died in your gob, old man!' Uther hisses. 'Get away from me!'

'Ah. How do you think I torture my unfortunate victims?' Gaius asks. 'Apart from playing endless tapes of Lady Gaga and Justin Beiber, of course. The Jonas Bros were also doing the trick until I developed a fancy for the drummer. Can't have that kind of distraction while I'm working people over, you understand'.

'I don't pretend to understand anything about you, you sick fuck' Uther spits, angrily. 'Now let me out of here! What is the meaning of this?'

'Oh, I'm so glad you asked!' Gaius cries, clapping his hands gaily. 'That's the best part. This little contraption, my friend, is an invention of mine called The Rack. What it does is hold you in place while I do whatever I like to you! Of course, I can also stretch you out on it, using this little handle at the end here, but I prefer the personal touch that comes with pliers and hot wax'.

'Candle wax?' Uther's eyes widen in alarm.

'No. Veet Hot Wax. I liberated some from Morgana's bathroom last night. I rather enjoy a nice, smooth canvas to work on'.

'You're mad'.

'No, I'm quite sane, actually. What I am is particular. I like things to go according to plan and that's where you come in. I need practice you see. Practice for the main event'.

'And what does that entail?' Uther asks. 'Nothing to do with my son, I hope?'

'Oh Goodness, no! He's not my type at all' Gaius assures his king. 'I rather fancy bagging myself a certain servant boy, actually'.

'Merlin? You like Merlin? Poor tosser. I don't actually like the boy very much but he doesn't deserve this'.

'Oh don't worry. I'll go gentle on him'.

Uther eyes the pot of hot wax bubbling on the Bunsen burner across the room and sighs in resignation. 'But I daresay you're not going to offer me the same courtesy'.

Gaius grins, evilly. 'I daresay you're right, My Lord'.

The next morning, Gwen rises and shines with a big old smile on her dial. It's been a really long time since she'd gotten any, and boy, Arthur had made the wait worthwhile! Sighing in happiness, she practically skips to the loo, my darlink After her daily shit, shower and shave, Gwen heads down for breakfast and spots Merlin skulking suspiciously in the corner, the News of the World clamped in a fist.

'What are you going to do with that?' she asks, gesturing at the paper. 'You can't recycle that. Uther wouldn't have read it yet. You know he always likes his morning news with his kippers and eggs'.

'I know… it's just… there's a really interesting article about… uh… fly-fishing in here that I want to check out' Merlin stammers nervously.

'Fly-fishing? Since when have you been interested in fly-fishing?' Gwen asks, disbelieving. 'I thought that was a sport for old men and rednecks. Of which you are neither'.

'I know, but…' Merlin falters… 'Oh look, you're probably going to see it anyway, so I suppose I should show you before you walk past a copy at the market and have, like, a cardiac arrest, or something'.

'What _are_ you talking about?' Gwen asks. 'Why would I have a cardiac arrest?' A second later, her mouth drops open. 'I know. Arthur's got himself a Twinkie in the city, hasn't he? He's running around behind my back! That's what it is, isn't it?'

'Uh… No?' Merlin says, and reluctantly passes her the paper.

Gwen barely turns the page before she sees what he's getting at. Merlin watches as the skin on her face goes from warm brown to a garish purple. Pretty soon she's hyperventilating. He takes a step backward, and almost falls the rest of the way when she opens her mouth and screams…

'ARRRRTHURRRR!

Meanwhile, Arthur was heading downstairs and out the back door, as he had an important guest to greet at the castle gates, and he doesn't want anyone to follow him. Least of all his father, who has a habit of sending his guards on spying missions whenever he thinks Arthur's up to no good. Making it out of the house unnoticed was the biggest step. Once his guests were safely stashed in one of the castle's 30 odd spare rooms he could relax, but until then, he had to be extra stealthy. So when he heard Gwen's scream, Arthur did what most red-blooded males do when they're in the doghouse with their significant other. He ran.

'My Lord' says a guard by the castle gates. 'There's a young lady and her servant waiting for you. It's a good thing you got here when you did. When they were handing out patience, I don't even think she stood in line'. Swinging the gate open, the guard holds it for Arthur's guests; and in walks a tall, beautiful woman with mother-of-pearl skin and jet black hair cascading to her shoulders. Arthur blinks in surprise. This was Eris? Funny, the faerie neglected to mention she was an A-Grade hottie! Typical females!

A cute blonde girl with pixie-like features arrives in Eris' wake, laden down with so much match-luggage Arthur's amazed her arms haven't dropped off yet. He steps out in front of the two gorgeous women and bows, courteously. 'The glorious Goddess Eris and her charming lady-in-waiting, I presume?'

'Pleased to meet you' the blonde says, putting down a bag or two so she can extend a hand to Arthur. He takes it, marvelling at how tiny and delicate it is inside his own, and kisses the back of it, like the gentleman his Nanny had always tried to raise him to be.

To his surprise, the girl doesn't squeal and shriek like a Twi-Hard in the presence of Robert Pattinson, the way most commoners did when they met Prince Arthur Pendragon, heir to the throne of Come-a-lot. She merely smiles and says, 'How do you do?'

'This is my Girl Friday, beautician and general dogsbody, Camilla Everhart' Eris was saying. 'She goes where I go. I take it you're Prince Arthur of Come-a-lot? Because if you're yet another servant or guard; I'm going to be _very_ upset. I just _hate_ people who waste my time'.

'No, I'm Prince Arthur' he tells her. Eris regards him with a critical gaze, her sparkling lavender eyes appraising him the way a housewife checks out the meat at the butcher's. 'I thought you'd be bigger' she replies, finally. Arthur feels about six inches tall, not to mention quite insulted, but what could he say? She was a God, FFS, she could tear him limb from limb if he dared smart-mouth her!

'Oh, don't pay any mind to her, she just likes to be a big bully sometimes'. The blonde girl laughs, and tries to pick up the bags she'd dropped. 'Here, I'll help you' Arthur offers. 'Oh… Where is she going?'

Eris had already walked across the courtyard and was heading for the front doors of the palace. Oh shit, Arthur thought. Can't have that!

'Hey wait'. He calls after the goddess. 'You can't go in that way. Around the back'.

'Around the back?' Eris looks mortified. 'Are you saying I have to use the _servants_' entrance?'

'Just for today' Arthur promises. 'Just until the ball tonight. We're having a masquerade ball in honour of…'

'Spare me the details' Eris cuts in, waving a hand dismissively. 'Whatever. Just show me to my rooms so I can have a bath and get out of these filthy clothes'.

That sounds like a plan, Arthur thinks, salaciously, but doesn't say. He has a feeling she could filet him with the power of her mind and that's not a chick you want to get angry!

Camilla Everhart was struggling to get the match luggage up the stairs. 'I'll just call my loyal servant…' Arthur gets halfway through saying before he's interrupted by Merlin at the foot of the stairwell. '_Man_-servant'

Arthur rolls his eyes. 'Eris, Camilla, this is Merlin. Please ignore just about everything he says. He's a simple soul, really. Doesn't understand much beyond two syllable commands'.

'Oh, hey now… that's not fair…' Merlin started to say, then claps eyes on Eris's pretty little pixie-like beautician and is stunned into silence. Arthur wanted to groan. Oh no! The last thing I need is for that fool to fall in love! He's absent-minded enough, _now_! What on earth would he be like with a _girlfriend_?

Camilla extends a hand to Merlin, who looks at it as if he's never seen a hand before in his life. 'Kiss it, dipshit' Arthur whispers in his ear. 'She's going to think you've been lobotomised if you don't do something, soon'.

Merlin leans his dark head forward and kisses the hand quickly, then looks as if he's about to faint. Camilla smiles at him and blushes prettily. Arthur is fairly sure this chick would look pretty going to the can. But her boss was in another league altogether.

'Meet me in half an hour in my rooms' Eris instructs Arthur. 'We must talk about this plan of yours to usurp your father's throne…'

'Ssh' Arthur says, fearfully. 'He'd be on his way to breakfast right now, and he's paranoid enough as it is. If he sees you…'

'He won't see me, and he wouldn't recognise me if he did' Eris tells Arthur. 'I don't exactly make a habit of introducing myself to people I plan to overthrow. Tends to spoil the surprise'.

'Okay well… I'll let Merlin show you up to your rooms and see you in thirty minutes, then' Arthur says, giving Merlin a push toward the stairs. 'Merlin, be a gentlemen and help the ladies with their luggage. And try not to be an idiot and fall down the stairs; or something'.

Merlin looks hurt but says nothing, choosing to take a bag in each hand and clomp up the stairs to the first floor guest rooms in silence. He'll keep, he thinks to himself. I'll teach him to embarrass me in front of Miss Everhart! He thinks he's all mighty and powerful and…

'Merlin, is it?'

Merlin almost drops the bags and loses his balance, but regains his equilibrium just in time. 'Uh… Yes' he says to the cute beautician. 'Arthur has a bunch of other names for me, but I usually only answer to Merlin'.

'Forgive me' Camilla giggled, 'But Arthur seems like a bit of a prat'.

'You got that too?' Merlin gasps; amazed. 'Wow. You're a pretty quick judge of character'.

'Oh well, I can read minds' Camilla says, shrugging. 'So I could hear what he was thinking. It wasn't exactly PG rated, either' she lowers her voice, 'Especially not where my boss is concerned'.

'Oh, that's just Arthur' Merlin laughs. 'You'll get used to it'.

They reach the landing and Camilla puts her bags on the carpet beside the door.

'Oh, by the way… have you ever thought about doing anything about that scar on your chin? I could cover it for you'. She whips out a white powder puff and dabs at his face with it. For one scary second Merlin could have sworn he saw a face in the midst of the white puff. Blinking, he shook his head. No. Couldn't be. A living _powder puff_?

'There' Camilla says, smiling. 'All gone. Have a look'. She grabs a hand-held mirror out of the bag at her feet. Merlin checks his reflection and his mouth drops open. 'It's gone' he says, in amazement. 'How did you do that?'

Camilla shrugs. 'Pure talent'.

After a night on The Rack, Uther's feeling a tad worse for wear. He's also not feeling entirely matey toward his favourite physician, either. In fact, he has a good mind to order the old bastard's execution. Unfortunately, no one else in the castle knew how to concoct just the right tincture for aching joints the way Gaius could, so the mutinous prick was safe for a while yet. Uther heads for the breakfast table holding his right hip and groaning. When Gwen asks him what's wrong, he quickly makes an excuse. 'Oh… I think it's time for a new mattress. Where's Arthur?'

'Don't talk to me about Arthur', Gwen grizzles. 'If I never see that piece of excrement again it'll be too soon'.

'What's he done now?'

Gwen bites her lip, considers her options then figures he's going to see it anyway, and tosses him the morning newspaper. Uther stares at the front page, blankly. 'I don't see it'.

Gwen leans over and turns the page; then waits for her employer's face to turn apoplectic with rage. But to her dismay (she _wants_ Arthur to get in trouble) it doesn't. In fact, the man _laughs_! And laughs, and laughs.

Gwen boils with indignation. 'What? What's so funny?'

'I told him something like this would happen one day' Uther gurgles. 'That reporter from the News of the World has had it in for him, ever since Arthur told him he was a low rent hack and that his newspaper – which wasn't worth the ink used to print with – could go get shagged, but not in those exact words'.

'I can imagine' Gwen states, flatly.

'I seem to remember him also saying something about using the News of the World to line his birdcage. Not that Arthur _has _a bird, but it was pretty funny, anyway' Uther says, chuckling at the memory. 'The bloke was so mad, steam was practically coming out his ears. But if he planned to embarrass Arthur, he didn't do a very good job. I should imagine this would only serve to bolster his reputation as a ladies man, not ruin it'.

'And what about _my _reputation?' asks Gwen, getting all hot under the collar. 'You can see my face over his shoulder, clear as day! My father's going to have an absolute _fit_'.

Uther grabs his hip as he laughs uproariously. 'I wouldn't worry about that' he assures her. 'I think he knows your feelings for Arthur'.

'God, does _everyone_ know about my feelings for Arthur?' Gwen asks, her heart sinking. Uther attempts to stop laughing long enough to answer her. Tears are streaming down his weathered face. 'Well, if they didn't before' he chuckles, 'they certainly do now'.

'Oh, shut up' Gwen grumbled. As Merlin takes his place beside her at the breakfast table, with a bowlful of porridge, she glances at him. 'I suppose _you _think it's funny, too'.

'Um… Nope. Not really' Merlin replies. He looks at both of them. 'What exactly are we talking about?'

'The _newspaper_' Gwen groans. 'What else?' She stops, and props. 'Hang on… What's wrong with your face?'

'Huh? What?'

'Your face… there's something different' Gwen insists. 'Smile'.

Merlin raises an eyebrow. 'Have you gone mental?'

Instead of answering, she digs a finger into his ribs, and starts tickling him. He couldn't help but laugh, despite himself. Gwen gasped. 'Your scar! It's _gone_'.

'What are you talking about?' Ever vigilant about the "danger" of magic in his kingdom, Uther stared at Merlin's face. 'She's right. That little scar below your lip – the one that looks like a dimple. It's disappeared. How is that possible… without _magic?'_

His last word was a guttural growl. Above all else, Uther _hated_ magic. Witchcraft, sorcery, whatever you like to call it, he loathed it. And anyone found using magic of any kind in his kingdom was summarily executed, ASAFP (As Soon As Fucking Possible).

Merlin pales visibly at the thought. 'It's not magic' he blurts. 'I just happen to know a very good beautician. It's cover up, really. That's all it is'.

'So wash it off' Gwen says, prodding him. 'I _like_ that scar'.

'Yes' says Uther, through clenched teeth. 'Wash it off – and prove it's not magic'.

Merlin looks at Gwen, then Uther. 'Um… Okay. If it's that big a deal…'

'I will _not_ tolerate the existence of sorcery in my kingdom' Uther reminds him. 'Wash it off… and if you can't, maybe the fires of attrition will _burn_ it off'.

Gwen looks at Uther, shocked. 'You _wouldn't_ burn Merlin at the stake! He hasn't done anything wrong!'

'We'll see, won't we' Uther says, grimly. 'If he can't wash it off, I'll have him and the person who performed the glamour or whatever it was executed post haste. That should serve as a lesson to all those Birkenstock-wearing, man-hating, muff-diving Wiccans in the village'.

'Father!' Morgana has entered the kitchen and is pouring herself a short black. 'You can't talk of executing Merlin! He's been a faithful servant of your son for many years now! Besides, I doubt very much he knows magic, knows anyone who _uses_ magic, or even would recognise magic if it reached out and slapped him in the face'.

'Hey' Merlin protests, 'I'm not exactly stupid, you know'.

'I know, darling, I'm sticking up for you here' Morgana replies, giving Merlin an affectionate pat on the shoulder as she passed. 'The fact is, Daddy…'

'He can go and wash his face and prove to me that no magic has been used in this place' Uther insists. And from the tone of his voice, they all knew not to argue. Merlin gets up and hurries away from the table, his first thought to go and find Camilla Everhart and get her to undo whatever it was she had done. Surely it was just some freakishly powerful foundation or something. Or else, Merlin thinks, panicking, I'm screwed!

Arthur whistles a merry tune as he climbs the stairs toward the floor housing the guest rooms. If all went well, Father would be forced off the throne and he could take his rightful place as king. The very thought is enough to put him in such a good mood he doesn't mind when Merlin almost barrels him over in the upstairs corridor. 'What's wrong?' he asks, as Merlin brushes past him. 'Did you forget to lay my clothes out? Don't worry; I'm in a really good mood today. I think I'll dress myself…'

'Where is Camilla Everhart?' Merlin breaths, his face flushed and his palms, which were grasping Arthur's forearms, sweaty. 'I need to find her… _immediately_'.

Arthur scoffs. 'Jeez, Merlin, if you're really that desperate for a snog…'

'It's not about that' Merlin insists. 'Please… where is she? I put her in the first guest room, and she's not there!'

'Maybe she's having a shower, or something' Arthur suggests, grinning wickedly. 'Hey, here's your chance. You could knock on the door; ask her if she needs another towel…'

'Arthur! How can you think of chicks at a time like this? Your old man is all set to burn me at the stake if I can't prove that she didn't use magic to get rid of my scar!' Merlin hisses, frantically. 'I've tried washing it with everything – soap, shampoo, Morgana's massage oil – _nothing_ has worked! I know I always hated that scar, but now I'd give _anything _to have it back'.

'Gwen likes it' Arthur says, his face looking dreamy at the mere mention of Morgana's lady-in-waiting. 'She thinks it's sexy'.

'Gwen also likes _you._ I'm not fully convinced of her sanity at this point' Merlin jokes, bitterly. 'Ah hell… why don't I just face it? I'm going to die…'

'No you're not' says a voice that sounds to Merlin like bells tinkling. Camilla seems to appear out of nowhere, and steps up to the young warlock, putting a hand on his cheek. She recites a Welsh chant in a low voice and runs her fingertip over the place the scar once was. 'There you go' she says. 'All better. Come to think of it, I don't know why I tried to get rid of it. It's actually kind of…'

'Sexy?' Arthur groans.

Camilla giggles, blushing. 'Something like that'.

'Chicks' Arthur says, rolling his eyes. 'I don't get it!'

Eris winds a purple chiffon scarf around her throat as her faithful servant Camilla bursts in. 'I've got a date with the cute manservant' she gushes. 'So… how's your morning coming along?'

'It'll be fine once we actually get to figure out what our plan of action's going to be' Eris says, grumpily. 'Oh, blast it; I think I'm getting a zit! Make…'

Camilla is at her side before she could finish the sentence. 'Let me get rid of that for you…'

A knock at the door renders them both silent. King Uther doesn't know they're here, and if he did, he'd surely have them burned at the stake as witches. The guy could be a touch unreasonable that way.

'Who is it?' Eris asks.

'It's Arthur… who else would it be?'

'Oh right. Come in'.

Arthur enters the room, his loyal servant Merlin not far behind. Camilla gives him a shy smile, and he smiles back, the scar now visible again just under the edge of his bottom lip. It _does_ look like a dimple, she thinks. Cute!

Arthur is all worked up. 'My father was about to throw Merlin on the bonfire for what you did' he tells Camilla. 'I hope you're proud of yourself'.

'She didn't know'

'I didn't know'

'All the same' Arthur says, 'This can't go on. My father's tyranny has kept this kingdom in fear of him long enough. I'm ready to rise up, and take my rightful place as king of Come-a-lot. Only trouble is…'

Eris interrupts. 'You have absolutely no idea how?'

Arthur nods, ruefully. 'I hope you do'.

'I do, in fact' says Eris, mysteriously. 'By tonight, King Uther won't know his arse from his elbow. He will be totally and utterly incapable of ruling his kingdom. I can guarantee you that'. She held out her magnificent arms. 'Huddle' she ordered them. 'Here's what's going to happen'.

To be continued….


	2. Chapter 2

**Episode 2 – Dissension in the Ranks**

_Disclaimer: I swear to God, I didn't know the second last episode of Merlin Season 2 would be about some chick trying to bring Uther's reign to an end, and magic back to Camelot! I think I'm psychic! Either that or it really is true that great minds think alike… Anyway, thought I should give credit where credit's due as far as the lyrics in the last episode are concerned. So thanks to Tim Rice and Elton John for__ their lyrics to "I just can't wait to be King". _

Merlin leaves the guest room and heads for his chambers. When he arrives, Gaius is sitting at his apothecary table, mumbling a chant under his breath and pouring something that looked like jelly crystals into a tube of green gunk over a Bunsen burner. When he hears Merlin come in he looks up and almost drops the test tube. 'Oh! Merlin, I wasn't expecting you back until after you'd done your chores in the stables…'

'Finished them yesterday' Merlin informs him. Tilting his head to the side curiously, he takes a step closer. 'What are you doing, Gaius? Is someone sick?'

'No, no… this is just my own little side project' the old man says, mysteriously. 'It's a spell I've been working on for a long time, I'll say that much'.

'A spell?' says Merlin, eagerly. 'Why don't you let me help? I'm getting pretty good at sorcery. The other day I cleaned Arthur's armour without touching it. I really think I'm getting the hang of…'

'I'm not sure if your power is strong enough yet to help out with _this_ particular spell, my dear boy' Gaius tells him.

Merlin frowns; his feelings hurt. 'You _know_ how powerful I can be. You told me so yourself. You're frightened of how much I've learned in so short a time, remember?'

'That doesn't mean you have the power to influence people's minds…' Gaius begins to say before he realises he's said too much. Merlin's jaw drops.

'But Gaius… isn't that against free will? You once told me anything that makes a person do something they wouldn't normally do is black magic!'

Gaius closes his eyes for a long moment. Opening them again, he nods, slowly. 'That I did. But there are varying degrees of black…'

'Yes' Merlin interrupts, angrily. 'Black, black_er _and black_est_! Gaius… you're against mind control. So who is it you're planning on influencing?'

Gaius wouldn't meet his eyes. 'Uh… um… Uther, actually'.

Merlin slumps into the seat on the other side of the table. 'Seems like everyone's plotting against Uther'.

Gaius looks up at his young charge. 'I wouldn't call what I'm doing plotting. Just a minor… attitude adjustment'.

Merlin managed a half-smile. 'Pity you weren't going for a _major_ one. 'Cause if you were, I'd be all for taking away his hatred of magic. He was _this_ close…' (he holds up his finger and thumb, millimetres apart) '…to burning me at the stake for heresy, just because Arthur's friend's servant made my scar go away. I had to get her to put it back, or risk being the shish-kebab at a block party barbeque'.

Gaius has a funny look on his face that Merlin's not quite sure he likes. Finally, after some contemplation, he says, 'I don't know why you'd want to get rid of that scar, personally. _I _like it. I think it gives your face… character'.

'Gwen likes it, too. Although not quite for the same reason as you' Merlin says, blushing slightly. 'Anyway… what is it you want to change Uther's mind about?'

'Nothing. I mean… it's just something between him and me. Nothing to worry your pret… your head about. Anyway, I must be going. I've got things to see, people to do…'

Gaius pauses, frowns thoughtfully and turns back to Merlin. 'Strike that. Reverse it. I've got people to see, things to do'

Merlin laughs. 'I get it. Meanwhile, I think I'll work on that spell to get tomato sauce out of cheesecloth. Arthur can be such a _slob,_ sometimes'.

'Oh' Gaius says, before he leaves, 'By the way… I think you should go and feed some Kibble to the dragon. He's getting mighty feisty down there. I don't think Uther's guards have been feeding him regularly enough. If he's not fed soon, he might just fix himself a mid-knight snack. Hahaha… Get it? A mid-_knight_ snack?'

Merlin rolls his eyes. 'Yes, I get it. And yes, I'll go make sure he's taken care of. We wouldn't want a ravenous dragon on our hands. Especially not one who's got a bone to pick with the king'.

'Hahaha' Gaius laughs as he leaves the room. 'Bone to pick… Hilarious…'

Arthur is nervous about taking the first step in Eris' plan to discredit his father. The man wasn't easy to fool at the best of times. But to make him think he's gone crazy… that seemed close to impossible. He just wasn't sure if it would work, but Eris had assured him it would. He was already highly paranoid, right? _And_ deathly afraid of germs. The villagers had been bitching for years about the fact that their king wouldn't make trips down east of the river, but they didn't realise it was because he was terrified of catching cholera or typhoid fever, or some other exotic disease from the drinking water - or even just breathing the same air as poorer people. Whenever someone from outside the castle gates wished for an audience with the king, the man made them stand at least ten metres away from his throne, and if the person looked unwashed, they had to be bathed, deloused and sanitised before being allowed into the throne room at all!

Phase one of the plan had already been set in motion. That had been Gwen's job. Arthur, of course, had managed to sweet talk her out of hating him over the newspaper thing, by promising to publicly announce her as his girlfriend. Whether or not he actually got around to doing it was neither here nor there. But she seemed appeased, and was quite happy to dump a load of scarab beetles in Uther's hunting garb. Arthur stands outside his father's chambers and waits for his lady of the moment to return, and signal that the plan is well and truly underway.

Gwen appears at the door to Uther's chambers and nods her head twice – their signal for It's Done – then disappears down the stairs before Uther decides to come up and get dressed for his weekly pheasant hunting excursion. Arthur ducks into his own quarters and waits for the screaming to start. He knows his old man all too well. No doubt once he discovers the beetles – one of his least favourite creatures – he'd jump up on top of his desk and shriek like a woman until someone came and removed every last one of them.

Like clockwork, the bloodcurdling screams start and Arthur bolts into the next room. 'Father' he cries at Uther, who is cowering on the desk like a lady frightened of a tiny little mouse. 'What's going on?'

'You can't see them?' Uther says, looking panicked. 'They're all over the place! All over my bed… oh… and now some of them are on the floor…'

Arthur pretends not to know what he's talking about, yet he can see the beetles as plain as day. 'Father… there's nothing there' he says, biting his lip. 'Are you sure you're all right? Did you get much sleep last night? Maybe you're having one of those nightmare-while-you're-awake situations…'

Uther glares at his son, indignantly. 'I am _not _suffering from sleep deprivation, and I am most certainly _not_ seeing things! There are beetles on my bed, I tell you! And they're in my hunting robes, and now they're making their way to the _floor_! Argh! Oh, watch it! One of them is trying to climb up the side of your boot! Squash it, squash it! Kill them all!' Uther puts both hands over his face, and moans with fear. Meanwhile, Arthur stomps over the floor in his riding boots, missing bugs here but actually standing on a stray one there. It had to look like he was humouring his crazy old man. Leaning over the bed he makes as if to scoop up a handful of imaginary beetles. Uther growls in frustration. 'No, no, _no_! How can you not _see_ them? Oh… one of them is climbing up your tunic now! Dirty, disgusting things! They eat the corpses of dead people! That's why they're called Scarab beetles. Did you know that? You've got a dead-flesh-eating insect on you!' He covers his face again, as if he can't bear to look.

Arthur looks down and brushes the bug off his tunic with a nonchalant flick of the wrist, thinking to himself that it's probably lucky he's not composed of dead flesh then, but didn't say it aloud. 'There. Gone. You'll have to tell me where the rest are, Father, because I honestly can't see them'.

After about a half-hour of this, Arthur emerges from his father's quarters feeling like he should be given a BAFTA for his acting prowess. Uther hadn't wanted to go back to bed but he did allow Arthur to throw a blanket over him on his sofa in the adjoining sitting room, so he could get some much needed rest. The poor man – Arthur couldn't help feeling a twinge of guilt and sympathy for his father at this point, but not enough to abandon the plan altogether – had curled up into a foetal position and made Arthur sweep the room for bugs, just in case!

It was shaping up as a busy morning indeed for Gwen. First there was the chore with the beetles to take care of; then she had to go help Morgana get ready for the Masquerade Ball. It wasn't for several hours yet, but when you're the ward of the King of Come-a-lot, you have to look your absolute best. If that means bathing, exfoliating, waxing, a full facial, mani-pedi _and_ hair appointment into the bargain, you have to start extra early! Gwen sighs as she opens the door to Morgana's chambers and finds the Lady fussing over a zit on her chin. For Christ's sake, Gwen thinks, it's barely visible, don't have a cow! But Morgana has already begun flailing her hands about and making a terrible keening sound. You'd think she'd had another one of her visions, not discovered a tiny facial imperfection, Gwen thinks to herself. Half her luck. I'd love to have porcelain skin that rarely sees a _blemish_, let alone the volcanoes _I _have to deal with! She recalls the last time she had to step out with a zit on her forehead, and shudders. That had not been pretty!

'Oh… Good. Gwen, you're here' Morgana says, sounding relieved. 'I need my Mabelline foundation. I've got a… a….'

'You can say it, My Lady' Gwen says, rolling her brown eyes when her boss had her back turned. 'It's called a pimple'.

'Pimple?' Did you say pimple?'

Gwen spins around. Behind her stands the Goddess Eris herself. 'Oh… Your Excellence' she says, and bows. 'How may I help you?'

'It is not you who has to help me' says Eris. 'I overheard your conversation, and I think _I _can help _you_. _Make-up_!' This she hollers so loudly that both Morgana and Gwen jump.

Eris's pixie-like assistant appears out of nowhere, and hurries over to her side. She casts a glance over her employer's perfect complexion and frowns. 'What's the problem?'

'Not me, _her_' Eris says, and points to Morgana. Camilla turns and sees the anomaly straight away. With a single pat of her powder puff, the zit is gone. 'Oh, thank you' Morgana sighs. 'How can I ever repay you?'

Camilla shrugs. 'You don't have to repay me. It's what I do'.

Gwen frowns, thoughtfully; then says 'You didn't happen to "fix" a little problem for Merlin this morning, did you? If it _was _you, you almost got him in terrible trouble'.

'Oh I know, and I'm sorry' Camilla replies, looking scared all of a sudden. 'I put it right, I swear I did!'

'I should hope so' Gwen retorts. 'Because you could have cost his life! Uther considers the use of magic as a capital crime, and the participation in such magic as treason – which pretty much carries the same penalty'.

'She _did_ say she was sorry' Eris reminds Gwen. She turns to Camilla and gestures to the door with her eyes. 'Come, Camilla! We have much work to do'.

The moment they're out the door, Morgana stares after them, curiosity burning in her green eyes. 'Now, what could those two be up to?' she wonders aloud. 'And just exactly who are they, anyway? I've never seen them before'.

Aware that Morgana isn't in on the plot against Uther, Gwen has to think quickly.

'Oh… they're just some guests from out of town. For the Masquerade Ball' she adds, quickly. 'King Uther generously put them up for the night'.

'Yes well, so he should. How many guest rooms has this place got?' Morgana takes up her silver plated hair brush and starts combing her glossy black waves. 'He could turn it into a hotel if he wanted to make a bit of extra cash'.

'Extra cash?' Gwen scoffs. 'He's the richest guy in the kingdom. He's The King, for Christ's sake'.

'Good point. But still…' Morgana stops brushing for a moment. 'Do you suppose the royal family _ever _runs out of money?'

Gwen chuckles. 'Not unless they stop charging the rest of us taxes! Now, do you want the vanilla or lavender bath oils?'

The king's court, where members of the public could have an audience with their ruler over matters of extreme urgency, was held every day just after lunch. After tending to such kingly matters as brushing his teeth and visiting the loo, Uther heads for the throne room. As usual, his loyal knights, who are handpicked from the sons of noblemen to protect him, are standing at either side of his throne, still as statues but ready for trouble if trouble presented itself. Among them of course is his son, Arthur, whom he nods to, but hasn't quite forgiven for treating him like an old man who's steadily losing his marbles, over the bug incident earlier. He had been _so _sure those beetles were there! How could Arthur have not seen them? And yet he went about the pretence of seeing them and destroying them when the silly git obviously didn't have a clue what he was looking at!

Uther makes himself comfortable on the throne and calls for the first of his constituents. What he isn't prepared for is the monstrosity that walks in. Uther is so shocked by the villager's appearance that his elbow slips off the arm of his chair and he almost hits his cheek on solid wood!

The woman in front of him is in her middle-age. Her hair is so dirty Uther can barely tell what colour it is underneath the grime, but judging by her eyebrows, she's probably blonde. Her brows are about the only part of her face that isn't covered in festering boils, or gnarled, twisted skin. Worst of all, she appears to have no nose!

'What is the meaning of this?' Uther shouts to his guards. 'She's obviously suffering from some hideous contagion! How dare you grant her entry to my throne room! Take her away…'

'Father' says Arthur, putting a hand on his shoulder. 'She may be a victim of sorcery'.

'Well did you ask her?'

'Uh… no. Well… at least, _I _didn't…' Arthur falters, but Galahad steps in to vouch for him. 'My Lord, she has Leprosy, but she would not leave when we asked her to and well… no one wanted to actually _touch_ her, so…'

'What about your swords, you fools?' Uther rants. 'You could have threatened her with those, or at least with arrest!'

'But she's done nothing wrong, Sire' Galahad tries to explain. 'What do we arrest her for?'

Oh… Uther thinks… Yes. There _is_ that tiny little matter of her not actually having done anything illegal, per se. He relented. 'Just keep her away from me', he mutters. Glaring at the woman out of the corner of his eye, the king asks, 'So… what is it you have come to me for, Crone? I don't have a cure for your ills. Not even my personal physician can cure Leprosy'.

'I'm not asking for a cure, King Uther' the woman says, in a raspy voice. 'As I know none is forthcoming. I'm merely asking you to see me. See what your intolerance of magic has done to my people. Most of them are suffering from some kind of horrible disease that can probably be fixed with the right spell or potion, yet you will not have that. You choose to let us all die…' she takes several steps forward, ignoring the knights behind Uther's chair, most of whom have either drawn their swords or look like they are about to. Her eyes are fixed on the king; and the king alone.

'I warned you, woman, don't come any closer' Uther says, holding up a hand. 'Stop! I command you…'

'And what are you going to do, exactly?' she asks. 'Your knights don't want to touch me, and I don't particularly care if they smite me with their blades. I mean, would you, in my position, looking like this? I'm not afraid of death. But if they _do_ slay me where I stand, my blood – riddled with Leprosy – lands in your lap. Is that what you want?' She takes even more steps, and Uther is by now pale and clammy with perspiration born of his fear of pathogens. He feels a panic attack coming on, but doesn't want to look unmanly in front of his very manly knights, so swallows down his fear and clears his throat before speaking. If he hadn't, there was a pretty good chance his voice would have come out several octaves higher than normal!

'I see you' he tells her. 'And I am very sorry for your situation…'

'Oh I bet you are' she says. 'You have no idea… But you will'. Before Uther could raise a hand to stop her, she'd placed a calloused finger right in the middle of his chest. 'You, Uther Pendragon, have the blood of my people on your hands! You will suffer just as they have suffered'.

'Get her off me' Uther cries, no longer worried about sounding macho in front of his protectors. 'Make her stop!'

Galahad and Pellinor look at each other as if to say, '_I'm_ not touching her, are you?', so Arthur, groaning, jumps forward and grabs the lady by the arm. 'You're under arrest' he hisses at her.

'For what?' she asks.

'For threatening the king! What else?' He frogmarches her toward the large double doors. As soon as they're out of earshot he whispers, 'Eris? Is that you in there?'

'Who's Eris?' the woman asks. 'And I resent the implication that I'm wearing a costume! This is _me_; boy… this is what your father does to people who displease him! I only hope you're going to make a better king than he does…'

'Alright, alright' Arthur says, as he hoists her through the heavy doors and out into the hallway. 'My mistake… I thought… no, never mind. I apologise'.

He lets go of her the minute the door swings shut behind them. 'You can go. I have no quarrel with you. But don't come back, or you _will _be shown to the dungeon'.

She looks him up and down with what little eyes she has, beneath her swollen, pus-filled lids. 'You're a looker, but it's a pity you're just like your old man' she spits. 'Arrogant, and pig-headed. If I were a sorcerer, I'd turn you _into_ a pig…'

'Well, it's just as well you're not, then, isn't it' Arthur replies, tiredly. 'Be off with you, Crone'.

She narrows her eyes (if that's even possible, they're already practically slits in her face) and hisses, 'By the first light your father will know my pain!' then vanishes into thin air.

It takes Arthur a couple of seconds to realise what's just happened (well, he _is_ blonde), then he throws his shield to the stone steps in frustration. 'Damn it to hell' he curses. 'She _was_ a witch, after all!'

'Father's been cursed' Arthur says, as he enters the servants quarters without so much as a knock. 'Hey' says Merlin, crossly. 'You're always on at me for just barging in'.

'Oh… sorry' says Arthur, sarcastically. 'Would you like me to go back out and formally introduce myself?'

'Yeah, actually I would' says Merlin, and the moment Arthur's out of sight he mutters, 'One rule for me, another rule for everyone else, 'cause I'm Arthur Pendragon, Prince of…'

'Merlin, it's me, Arthur, can I come in?' Arthur drones from behind the heavy wooden door.

'I suppose you might as well' Merlin replies. Sliding the spell book he was reading under the edge of his bed, Merlin stands up and gives his room a quick once-over. Arthur was likely to make a snide remark about his housekeeping talents – or lack thereof – and quite frankly, Merlin wasn't in the mood. He was due to escort Camilla Everhart to the Masquerade Ball this night, and he didn't have a clue what he was going to wear.

Thankfully everything was in its place. That would have been due to Gaius more than anything he'd done himself. His mind was… well, away with the fairies at the moment.-or should we say; _pixies_?

Once he was inside, Arthur couldn't stop pacing the room. 'What am I going to do, Merlin? I thought the woman was the goddess Eris. I mean, she was supposed to help make Father go mad, and so far all she's done is brainstorm a few ideas! Then in walks this woman, and I think it's Eris in disguise – pretty darn good one, too – but it isn't, and now Father's been cursed with Leprosy! A real doozey of a case, too, if he ends up anything like _her_…' he shudders.

Merlin frowns at Arthur, perplexed. 'But I thought you _wanted_ him to retire the throne! He'll have to now, won't he? If he winds up with Leprosy…'

'She didn't actually touch him' Arthur informs Merlin. 'Just poked him in the chest, and I doubt even true Leprosy can make its way through chain mail and undershirts. No… it sounded to me more like a curse'.

'I still don't see the problem'.

Arthur stops pacing and scowls. 'Hang on… you're right! Just because Eris isn't responsible, doesn't mean I can't make this work in my favour! Merlin, you're a genius! And the goddess is out of a job'. He heads for the door, his mind full of possibilities. Merlin's brain processes the news of Eris being fired in a single synapse, and he cries out before Arthur can leave the room. 'Wait! Can't we at least let them stay for the ball?' He gives Arthur his best puppy-dog eyes. 'I'm supposed to be escorting her handmaiden, and well…I haven't had a date in _ages_'.

Arthur looks Merlin up and down; then smirks. 'Well, I hope you're not planning on wearing _those_ old threads. You look like you swept the courtyard in them'. Having had the last laugh, he leaves the room, still chuckling to himself.

Merlin bites his lip, then yells, 'That's because I _did,_ you royal prat!'

The Ball was scheduled to start in an hour or so, and Gwen had just finished helping Morgana on with her corset and dress, make-up _and_ the silver tiara she planned to wear over her elaborate hairdo. It was probably just as well she only needed half an hour to get ready, herself. Luckily Morgana had been in high spirits (she was being escorted by Sir Galahad, who, while not as dreamy as Lancelot, still turned quite a few heads in his own right) and had lent her a royal blue dress, one of her "old things" that she was going to "throw out, anyway". Gwen spent a half hour taking out the seams in the bodice (Morgana was frightfully skinny) before slipping into the gown and running a brush through her dark curls. Thankfully, Camilla Everhart showed up, kindly (and quickly) doing her make-up for her. If Gwen had still had the slightest of crushes on Merlin, she supposed she would have been jealous of the gorgeous little handmaiden, but she wasn't. Her brain was filled with Arthur, and how he'd promised to escort her to the Ball and formally announce to everyone who was anyone that they were an item.

So imagine Gwen's face when she walks past the Goddess Eris' rooms and hears Arthur's voice! Ducking into the alcove beside the heavy door, she struggles to eavesdrop on the conversation through the keyhole. She can just see Arthur by the end of the bed (what the hell's he doing standing anywhere _near_ her bed, she thinks, her heart sinking in her chest). It was hard to read his expression from her vantage point, but she could hear the anger in his voice, all right!

'You haven't done anything so far to convince me that you should have a stake in the kingdom if and when it comes to that' he was saying. 'Yes, the bug thing worked, but my father is no more likely to spend the night in Broadmoor Asylum than _I _am'.

'You wait', Eris replies, from wherever in the room she is standing. Gwen couldn't see her yet. 'It may not happen tonight, but it _will_ happen'.

'That's what they said about Pantene' Arthur sulks. 'I still haven't seen any proof of that, yet, either'.

'Have patience, young prince' says Eris, and suddenly she comes into view. Gwen has to stop herself from gasping. The goddess was… well, a goddess! Wearing a long lilac chiffon and silk gown, with her dark hair curled around her milky white shoulders, she was breathtakingly beautiful, and Gwen suddenly realises she doesn't stand a chance. Especially not when the goddess is running her hand over Arthur's chest like that… oh, Gwen thinks, wistfully, he scrubs up _so_ fine! Get your hands off him, you skanky ho!

He's _mine_! She can barely curb a desire to rush in there and pull the goddess off of him, but remembers her place. She's not supposed to be here, listening to their conversation, for starters!

'Your father _will_ relinquish the crown' Eris was saying. 'Once he sees his face in the morning, the last vestiges of his sanity will be gone. I promise you that'.

'That was _you_?' Arthur gasped, incredulously. 'I thought…'

'Of _course_ it wasn't me! Do you think _I _could look like that, even on my worst day? No, it was an old friend of mine, who owed me a favour, so I called her on it. But the curse is as real as I'm standing here. She's really a very experienced sorcerer, is Magda'.

Arthur appears mind-boggled, but he still wasn't backing away from Eris, Gwen notices! The goddess now has both hands on his shoulders, and Gwen seethes with jealousy.

'So… Blondie' Eris was saying, fiddling with his jacket lapels flirtatiously, 'Are you escorting me to this Ball tonight, or am I going to go alone, like a pathetic spinster?'

Oh, good one, Gwen thinks, venomously. Way to appeal to his sense of chivalry! Don't fall for it, Arthur! You're going with _me_, remember?

'Uh… um… er… well…'

Both women look at him now, expectantly. Only Arthur doesn't know one of them is standing behind the door, her fists clenched so tightly her nails are cutting into the palms of her hands!

'Well?' Eris asks. 'Look in the mirror. We do make a striking couple, don't you think?'

'Uh… Sure. I suppose'.

'So come with me. Be my date. What do you say?' Even from Gwen's perspective, she could tell Eris was giving Arthur the full measure of her charms. 'I could make it worth your while'.

'Okay' says Arthur, and Gwen felt like screaming!

Uther was not having a good day. First there were the bugs, then that awful woman during open court, and now he was sure he was hearing things. Twice while he readied himself for the Ball he heard someone whispering. When he stopped to try to hear what was being said, or where it was coming from, the whispering stopped. Now, as he combed what little hair he had left and put his crown at a jaunty angle on his head, he'd swear he heard the name "Queen Mab". He hadn't heard that name in years – so why now? And who would be talking about that crazy old cow, anyway? Anyone worried about their own necks around Come-a-lot would know that you do not say that name in these parts. But there… there it is, again!

"_Queeen Maaaab"_

Uther frowns and leans over, toward the place where the sound is coming from. As he was about to get on all fours and listen more closely, out pops a tiny grey mouse from the hole in the skirting board, and runs straight up his pants leg!

Uther lets out an almighty "Whoop" of surprise, and starts laughing like Daffy Duck. Not because the feeling of the mouse running up his leg is particularly ticklish, but because he's so freaked out, he doesn't know what else _to_ do!

Naturally, people come running when they hear the king carrying on like a hyena on crack, and stop to whisper and point as Uther hops around his chambers on one leg, trying desperately to catch the mouse before it reaches the fork in the road, so to speak. Oh, no, that would _not_ do! To have a filthy little rodent sniffing around the family jewels… and what if he decides he's hungry? Uther had heard about the sharp little teeth of common house mice, but since he didn't believe the castle ever _got_ mice, he didn't think he'd ever have to deal with them. Now, he was well and truly dealing with them!

Gaius shuffles into the room, the crowd parting for him like the Red Sea (because the old man has quite the B.O problem), and makes his way over to Uther. 'Sire… Whatever is the matter?'

'A mouse! There's a _mouse_ in my britches, Gaius! And the little bugger is quick, too. He's just run from one leg to the other. Thank Christ he didn't stop in the middle or…'

'Uh… I don't think we want to go there, do we, Sire?' Gaius says, reproachfully. 'There _are _womenfolk present…'

'Ah… Yes. Sorry about that' Uther says, smiling sheepishly out at the crowd gathered at his door. 'Good day. Hope you've all had a wonderful tour of the castle'.

'They're not here on a guided tour, Your Majesty' Gaius tells him. 'They're journalists'.

'Oh bloody hell! Get them out of here! OUT!' Uther rushes at his chamber door with a wildly waving hand as flashbulbs go off in his face. Terrific, he thinks. Why can't Iever be caught with my pants down in _style,_ like Arthur? With a lady friend betwixt my thighs, instead of some damn rodent!

Speaking of which, the mouse, seemingly having it's fill of Uther's undergarments, reappears at his right foot and darts across the room toward the nearest wall. 'Be off with you' Uther spits at it. Humiliated at being caught in such a ridiculous situation, and by the media, no less, Uther considers not showing up for the Ball. But the idea was just ludicrous. He'd thrown the damn thing himself, in honour of some cause he couldn't even remember the name of, and now he'd have to front up and face the music. As well as the whispers, giggles and innuendo that was bound to be doing the rounds once those reporters started opening their traps. He could just see the headlines now – "Fears for King's Sanity" was a likely one; or else "Uther does a merry dance – Before the Ball's even begun!"

The king stands before his long, oval mirror and straightens his crown. Dignified, he thinks. That's the key. Look dignified. None of this jaunty crown bullshit. Who do you think you are, K-Fed?

Finally satisfied with the way he looks, Uther braces himself for the onslaught, and steps out his chamber doors…

The royal ballroom was full to bursting with everyone Guinevere had ever known and most she didn't. Of course, the great majority are wearing masks, adorned with feathers and glittering paint or sequins, horns, whatever took their fancy. It wasn't hard to find Lancelot. The fool looks like Zorro in his black mask and wide brimmed hat, but the cheesecloth shirt is a dead giveaway. Gwen takes his arm reluctantly, and narrows her brown eyes as soon as Lancelot is otherwise occupied, admiring himself in any reflective surface they pass. I'll fix you, Arthur, she thinks. I'll make sure you _never_ forget me, not in a million years! Not even for some jumped-up Goddess who has to call on favours to get her dirty work done! Oh yeah, I'll make you so sorry you ditched me for that half-arsed deity! And I know just how, too…

'Pig in blanket?'

'Huh?'

Gwen turns her head and is confronted with something that looks like a baby's finger wrapped in deep-fried pastry. Lancelot was wiggling it in front of her face.

'Uh – no thanks' she replies; dodging a manically dancing couple who were getting too close to the banquet table. 'Suit yourself' Lancelot mumbles, and downs the foul concoction in one mouthful. Gwen makes a face to herself and scans the dance floor for her newest nemesis. Maybe if she can get close enough, she can swing out a leg and trip the bitch! That'd do, for starters…

'Dance?'

'Not yet' Gwen answers, distractedly. 'I have to work my way up to it, first'.

'Oh' grins Lancelot, his mouth still full of the pig-in-blanket. 'You mean; you have to get shit-faced, first?'

'No – but there's an idea' Gwen says, brightly. 'How about you go and get us a drink, Lancey-boy? I'll just stay here and keep your place by the finger food'.

'Sounds like a plan' Lancelot says, finally swallowing his gobful. 'Back in a tic'.

Gag me, Gwen thinks, rolling her eyes. He might be pretty but jeez, a girl would need a lobotomy to put up with that, full-time! Does the blighter even _have_ a personality?

'Hi, Gwen'

She turns to see Merlin in black from head to toe, with none other than Camilla Everhart on her arm. Oh great, Gwen thinks. How am I supposed to get through a conversation with her without giving away the fact that I hate her boss's guts? That she's got the date I want… the date I spent _weeks_ trying to get to ask me to this damn thing, for _this_ to happen! Grin and bear it, my arse!

'I like your dress' Merlin was saying. 'It looks familiar, though'

'It's one of Morgana's old things, okay/' Gwen grumbles. 'I had to take it out, the girl's skin and bone!'

'It suits you'. It's hard to be ticked off around Merlin, Gwen thinks. Why does he have to be so upbeat all the time? He's a servant, for Christ's sake!

'Thanks' she manages. 'You look… uh… what are you supposed to be, anyway?'

Merlin looks down at himself as if he's forgotten what he's wearing. 'It's not a costume, exactly' he tells her. 'I just felt kind of swashbuckling today, that's all'.

'That's it' Gwen says, trying a smile on for size. 'A pirate, of course! Very dashing'.

'Thanks' Merlin says. With a wink, he slides Excalibur out of its scabbard. 'Don't tell Arthur, but I borrowed his sword, just for tonight…'

Camilla giggles, and blushes prettily. Oh bloody hell, Gwen thinks; can't she look bad, like, _ever_? _I_ blush and I resemble a sweating warthog, _she_ blushes and she looks like fricking Tinkerbell! It's not fair!

'And just what do you plan to do with that sword?' says a voice from behind Merlin. The prince's man-servant goes pale, and winces. 'He's right behind me, isn't he?'

Gwen nods, narrowing her eyes at Arthur and Eris, who's looking mighty smug for someone who hasn't shown a single godly talent so far. Apart from making the wrong man's knees weak, of course!

'Oh… Uh… Gwen' Arthur sees her and goes even paler than Merlin. 'You look radiant tonight. I er… didn't think I'd see you here'.

'What, did you think I'd miss this?' Gwens asks him. 'Just because you called me at the last minute to tell me you'd forgotten that you'd asked someone else?' She makes a show of batting her eyelashes at Lancelot, who arrives with fruity cocktails in hand and a half-sozzled look on his face. 'Have you been doing shots with Galahad again?' Gwen asks him. 'Really, Lance… I was hoping to get in a dance or two before you got too falling-down drunk to manage a Quick Step'.

Arthur clears his throat, loudly. 'I'll dance with you, Gwen'.

He cops a furious look from Eris, but ignores her. 'Considering that I probably owe you one, anyway. After what I did, and all'.

Gwen chuckles. 'Owe me? You don't owe me anything, Arthur Pendragon! I'm a free woman… free to do as I please, and right now, I want to do…' She grabs Lancelot by the arm, almost spilling the drink he held out to her. 'Him'

Lancelot can't wipe the silly grin off his face. 'He-he-he… She wants to do me' he giggles like an idiot. Gwen takes the glass out of his hand and downs her cocktail in a few desperate mouthfuls, wipes her mouth and belches, loudly. 'Let's go, baby' she says to Lancelot, and pulls him out onto the dance floor with a finger hooked in his waistband. Arthur stares after her in shock that she'd actually turned him down; then remembers he has a date, too. 'Come on, let's dance' he tells Eris, who doesn't take kindly to being told what to do – especially not from a mere mortal man! 'Zip it' she commands, and all of a sudden, Arthur's mouth disappears! He grabs his face with both hands, his blue eyes growing large and panicked. 'Mmmmm! Mmmm!'

'Aw, now that's not very nice' says Merlin. 'Take it back'.

'I'll take it back when _he_ learns not to be such a demanding, spoiled brat' Eris says, calmly. 'And that's for any of you who may have been thinking I don't have any powers at all. And before you start screaming magic, it's not. Well… Not really. I _am_ a God, after all. If Uther decides to chop off my head for this, another one will grow back in its place'.

'Oh, oh! Like a worm?' asks a very tipsy Galahad. Morgana looks peeved, and Arthur was pretty sure he knew why. His adoptive sister was used to being on the man's arm; not the other way around!

Eris sighs dramatically. 'Yes, well… I suppose. But if anyone's now thinking that I'm not up to the job I was commissioned to do, they can take it up with me, personally! I saw Uther on the way down the stairs just now, and let me just say, he's not a happy camper. With what I've got planned for him later, you'll be calling for the men in white coats to come and take him away, and he'll go, quietly. I promise you that'.

'Well, as far as I'm concerned, later can't come fast enough' Arthur grumbles, the minute he has his mouth back in working order. 'This mask is getting itchy'. He shoves his silver mask up with the heel of his hand and scratches his nose. Merlin takes the hand of his date and bows, chivalrously. 'Will the lady kindly join me in a dance?'

'Of course' Camilla says, and the two sickening lovebirds head for the dance floor, which is filling fast, despite the terrible music. Nights in White Satin? Arthur thinks. Who the hell's the DJ here, _Gauis_? He turns toward the giant gramophone and almost falls over backward in shock. No, it's _worse_ than Gaius, he thinks. It's the old man!

Upset at her inability to make Arthur suffer terribly for his crimes, Gwen sidles over to Uther, who's been unceremoniously kicked out of the DJ's chair by his son. Almost immediately the wall-trembling sounds of AC-DC fill the room as the lords and ladies get down to "You Shook Me All Night Long".

'Sire… I have something to tell you' Gwen says, in Uther's ear.

'What, Love? I can't hear you'.

'Your Highness… people are plotting against you…'

Uther puts a hand behind his ear. 'What?'

Gwen takes a quick look around to make sure Lancelot, Merlin or Morgana are nowhere to be seen, and grabs Uther by the arm. 'Come with me' she says, into his ear. 'I have something to tell you'.

She's not sure how she manages to get the king out of the ball without anyone noticing, but once she has him on his own, in his chambers, Gwen lets out a sigh of relief.

'Whoa' Uther interrupts; a finger in his ear. 'My ears are going to be ringing all night, now'.

'That's not important. Sir, you've _got_ to listen to me. Whatever you think is going on with you – it's all a trick. It's a plot to make you think you're going crazy'.

Uther's suddenly very interested. 'Oh? And who would be behind this? Not Queen Mab? That senile old hag…'

'No' Gwen interrupts. 'It's not Queen Mab – whoever that is. It's… I'm afraid, Sire… It's your own son. It's Arthur'.

Uther looks at her as if she's the one going cuckoo, not him. 'How _dare_ you presume to know the mind of my son! He wouldn't plot against me; he's in line for the throne…'

'Exactly' Gwen says. 'Why do you think he'd want you safely tucked away in Broadmoor, in a nice white room with Thorazine on tap? So he can assume the throne, himself – and bring magic back to Come-a-lot. Let's face it; you _do_ have a lot of enemies willing to help him in his…'

She barely had the sentence out of her mouth before Uther was going apoplectic with rage. You might have reacted that way when I told you about the headlines this morning, she thinks, but doesn't say. Because she has a feeling he's not angry with Arthur (yet again). He's angry at _her_!

'My son does _not_ want magic back in Come-a-lot!' Uther yells. 'My son is a good, God-Fearing Christian, with morals and values and…'

'A killer move in bed' Gwen finishes for him. 'Trust me…. The boy ain't as innocent as you think'. She winks, salaciously. 'He certainly curls _my_ toes…'

'Do not speak of this!' Uther shouts. 'Get out of my room, handmaiden! _Out_!'

Gwen hurries to the door; then turns to have the last word.

'You'll see I'm right, King Uther' she says to him. 'Just keep your eyes open, and your wits about you. You'll see I'm right – that there are forces aligning against you, and that they're being led by none other than Arthur Pendragon, _your son_!' She slams the door as she leaves, her job done, and heads back down to the party.

Next on Merlin…

Will Uther discover Arthur's duplicity?

Will Gaius get Merlin on The Rack?

And who _is _Queen Mab, really?


	3. Chapter 3

**Episode 3**** – M A G I C spells Trouble**

_Disclaimer: Not going to do disclaimers __anymore. Come on, y'all know its fan fiction, it's not serious. It's not like I'm going to change the course of history, or anything. Okay, I might change the course of a few character's sex lives, but who's really going to complain about that? Oh… one other thing I'm not going to do anymore, mainly because it's too onerous, time-consuming and just plain hard, and that is, writing in the present tense. That said; let's get on with it…_

Uther pondered Gwen's words. It certainly seemed to make a grim sort of sense; in light of the day's events. But Arthur – his own son, his flesh and blood – plotting against him? Trying to send him around the twist, up the wall, out of his tree? How could he be so cruel, Uther wondered, when all I've tried to do is groom him in my image, raise a soldier, a man, not a boy; and teach him that the only person a man can count on his himself, and anyone he pays handsomely (or at least, more than the enemy offers) to back him up? All I've tried to do is prepare him to lead his kingdom, and this is how he repays me? By stabbing me in the back? Making me look like an old, stupid, _crazy_ fool, who's no good for anything but dribbling and spouting paranoid fantasies about warlocks doing him in? Seems the thing I should have been most paranoid about was right under my nose, Uther thought. Well, let's see him try to make a basket case out of me now!

The king threw a steely gaze at his reflection in the mirror. You are _not_ crazy, he told himself. You are a strong, virile man, capable of running your kingdom; and no one can tell you otherwise…

As he turned to leave the room, a roach the size of a kitten crawled out from under Uther's bed. The king promptly forgot all about being strong and virile, and settled for screaming like Jamie Lee Curtis in every Halloween sequel ever made, instead.

'That brainless half-wit' said Queen Mab to herself, as she stared into her crystal decanter (Saruman from Isengard can have his Palantir, Mab thinks. I've got a seeing glass that can handle more than just the past, present and future. It can handle 750ml of Glenfiddich, too! Now _that's_ handy). 'Never send a girl to do a woman's job'.

She was talking about Her Supreme Being Eris, of course. Not one to place herself above the gods themselves, Mab nevertheless couldn't help bitch when even the immortals fail in what should be an easy task. Uther was still, by and large, completely sane, even with all his obsessive-compulsive traits and phobias. The roach was supposed to be the last straw. Shit, Mab snorted to herself. _I _could do better, standing on my head! All that silly bitch is likely to do is give the king further reason to ban magic from Come-a-lot – as if he didn't have enough of a grudge against the old religion, already. And now he's super ticked off with Arthur for plotting against him, which is just terrific, _not_! How are we supposed to oust the bloke when he doesn't even trust his own son to take over?

'I think it's time I paid a visit to Come-a-lot, myself' said Queen Mab, to nobody in particular. Nobody in particular being her sad little manservant, Alfric. The moody little tosser was still carving up his arms Emo-style, but he managed to lift his head long enough to take in what was going on, and flick his heavy dark fringe out of his eyes. 'Yes, My glorious one, my Light When Everything's Dark, my Supreme…'

'Oh, shut the hell up, and pack a bag' Mab grizzled. 'We're going to visit the King'.

'Oh goodie' said Alfric, rolling his large brown eyes. Today, he was wearing his "Sarcasm is just one of the services I offer" t-shirt. It was black, of course, like the rest of his wardrobe. And his hair, and his kicker boots, and his eyeliner. Mab wished for once the bloke would get a new colour scheme, but that was obviously too much to strive for.

She put her special decanter up on the highest shelf and locked the liquor cabinet. 'Yes, _goodie_' she told Alfric. 'We're going to overthrow the king! Doesn't that sound like fun? Alfie, my dear boy, once the king's gone, you'll be able to do magic again! Out in public, I mean. Won't that be great?'

'Yeah. Great. Whatever' said Alfie, and closed the wounds on his arms with a single glance.

'Oh… And try to find something other than black to wear for an audience with the king, please' Mab pleaded. 'Maybe something in a deep purple?'

'But purple makes me look sick' Alfie complained.

'Darling, you look like death warmed up anyway. What's a little colour going to hurt?'

Alfie groaned and waved a limp wrist. In a blink of an eye he'd changed into a pair of black pants with accentuating pinstripes, a cream vest and black silk shirt. 'Is that better?'

'Much' replied Mab. 'I'll just lock up, and we'll be off. Oh, I am _so_ looking forward to seeing the old stomping grounds again! Wonder what Gaius is up to these days?'

She chuckled. 'Back in the days, the old boy used to be _quite_ the inquisitor! He definitely had ways of making people talk! And scream, cry, beg…'

'Sounds like a real party animal' Alfie droned. Mab was never quite sure if he was being sincere or sarcastic when he used that tone of voice, but it didn't matter.

'He was, in his time. I've missed the old chap. He could sink a beer or two, as well. Nobody I knew could hold his liquor like Gaius'. Mab shouldered a canvas bag. 'Okay – I'm ready. Let's go dethrone a king'.

Gwen stared sadly out the long, tall windows of Morgana's chambers. Her lady was off having a shower and Gwen, as her handmaiden, was supposed to be preparing her clothes for the day, but thoughts of the two suitors in her life – Arthur and Lancelot – were making ordinary, everyday tasks almost impossible. She kept thinking about how after the Ball the other night, she'd relented, and let Lancelot talk her into letting him park his carriage in her… ahem, garage. That had been out by the lake after dark, where no one could see them. Lancelot was quite good in the sack, too, which made her decision all the more difficult. Arthur had spent the entire day after the Masquerade Ball trying to suck up to Gwen for her forgiveness, and it was almost working, much to her chagrin. It was the big blue eyes and pouty lips that were doing her head in! Gwen groaned aloud. Arthur, Lancelot, Arthur, Lancelot… How _would_ she choose?

'Too much choice, that's my problem' she told herself. 'But oh, what a problem to have!'

'What's that?'

Morgana had walked into the room, a towel tucked around her body and another covering her hair like a turban.

Gwen jumped. 'Oh… I'm sorry, your Excellence… I didn't see you there…'

'Gwen, don't get so jumpy! Honestly, it's all right. I'm glad you had such a good time the other night. I did, too. As a matter of fact, Galahad's asked me on another date. Have you heard about The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants? It's on Broadway, apparently. We're going tomorrow night'.

'Good for you, Morgana' Gwen said smiling. 'I'm happy for you. But I wouldn't say I had such a good time at the Ball. I mean, Lancelot _is_ a total hottie and all that, but…'

'You still have a thing for Arthur?' Her lady grinned, knowingly.

Gwen sighed. 'Yes. I can't get him out of my head! I want to, because he can be _such_ a… a…'

'Ginormous Prat?'

'Exactly! Do you know, on the day of the Ball he dropped me like a sack of spuds so he could escort Eris! I had to promise Lance I'd go parking with him after just so I'd have a date! I mean, really…' she huffed and puffed as she set Morgana's clothes out on the bed.

Morgana laughed. 'Well it seems to me that you have a problem most girls would _love_ to have! The good-looking but dimwitted knight versus the brave, good-looking but cocky prince. They all have their pros and cons. But the way I see it, if you can't have an intelligent conversation with a man, or laugh with him, he's not worth sticking with'. She turned so Gwen could button her dress. 'Even if he does it for you in every other way'.

'Hm' Gwen said, thoughtfully. 'Okay, thanks. You've definitely given me something to think about'.

'Good' Morgana replied, and ran her silver brush through her hair. 'Because when my handmaiden is happy, she's a better worker!'

Gwen smiled, suddenly. 'Yes, I am, aren't I? Actually, My Lady, I know who it is I'm going to choose! I have to go tell him, right now, before I have second thoughts! Do you mind?'

'Of course not' Morgana laughed. 'You go find your prince, Gwen'.

Gwen hugged her boss; then stood back, puzzled. 'Hang on; what makes you think I'm going to pick Arthur?'

Morgana raised a quizzical eyebrow. 'You're honestly telling me you can have an intelligent conversation with Lancelot?'

'Good point' said Gwen, grinning. 'See you at lunch!'

Gaius, meanwhile, was working on his special potion down in his dungeon where Merlin couldn't barge in and interrupt. He had almost all the ingredients he needed for the spell, apart from wolves bane, and the blood of his subject. Obtaining those items would be tricky, but not impossible. Then if everything went according to plan, he'd have everything he always wanted. He couldn't wait! Rubbing his calloused hands together, Gaius peered into the green sludge boiling in his cauldron. 'Aha, looking good' he told himself. 'Gaius, old boy, you've outdone yourself this time! This calls for a celebration'.

Putting down the wooden spoon he used to stir his potions, he made his way over to the first cell on the right. The figure on the bunk bed stirred, and glared out at him. 'You can't keep me in here forever' the boy hissed. 'People will be missing me! There will be a massive manhunt. All of Middle Earth will be looking for me'

'Hush, boy… You're not in The Shire any more' Gaius informed him. 'Middle Earth is _so_ 2003! Weren't you at the Oscars when Return of the King won eleventy bloody awards? Ever since, the place has been like Happily Ever Frickin' After. Boring as! You're in _my_ neck of the woods, now, boy. The Kingdom of Come-a-Lot!'

Frodo Baggins sat up and rubbed his big blue eyes. 'Oh… this _never_ would have happened if I'd brought Sam along with me!'

Gaius unlocked the door of the cell, and held his cat 'o' nine tails behind his back as he approached his favourite hobbit. He chuckled, evilly, and Frodo shrank back as he detected a mad glint in the old man's eyes.

'Sam can't help you now'.

Merlin was busy soaping the saddles when Arthur barged into the stables that morning. 'Merlin… You need to help me' he gasped. 'Eris is great, but she's _really_ bossy, and I'm still _totally_ into Gwen! What do I do? I mean, how do I tell a Goddess that it's been fun, but I've got my eye on someone else?'

Merlin put down the bar of soap and frowned, thoughtfully. 'Well' he said, finally, 'It seems to me that you just bite the bullet, and tell her that it's been fun, but you're not into anything long term. She doesn't have to know you've got the hots for someone else. After all, she _did_ say she was only here until she succeeded in knocking Uther off his perch'.

'Yes, but the old boy is no closer to that than he was before she got here' Arthur moaned. 'In fact, he keeps looking at me like he thinks I'm in on the whole "wicked plot" as he calls it!'

'You _are_ in on the whole wicked plot' Merlin pointed out.

Arthur groaned. 'Yeah, but he's not supposed to know that! Jeez, I mean, one minute he's acting like a complete nutter, and the next, he's as sane as you or I! What gives?'

'Maybe he's twigged that someone's got it in for him' Merlin suggested. 'Your father might be a megalomaniacal dictator sometimes, but he's not stupid'.

Arthur looked pensive. 'Or maybe someone _told_ him'.

'Who would do that?'

'Someone who has an axe to grind with me! Someone like… Lancelot'.

'Lancelot doesn't know anything about The Plan. And anyway… what has Lancelot got against you?'

'_Gwen_, you feeble-minded git! Need I remind you we're in competition for her attentions? After she left with him the other night, I felt… I felt… the most horrible feeling in my gut. I've never felt it before…' Arthur put his hand to his stomach and winced. 'Just thinking about it now, brings it all back…'

'It's called jealousy, My Lord'.

'I know that now. And that's why I've got to fight to win back her trust'. Arthur sat down on a bale of hay beside Merlin. 'Speaking of the fairer sex, how goes it between you and Miss Everhart?'

'Oh… That's over' Merlin shrugged. 'She's just here for a good time, not a long time. That's what she told me, anyway. Plus she said I couldn't dance my way out of a paper bag. I really don't know what she was on about though. I consider my Irish Jig quite the party-pleaser'.

'You're a terrible dancer, Merlin' Arthur said, bluntly. 'Get used to it'.

Merlin pouted, and picked the soup up again. 'Anyway, a man can only talk make-up and hair for so long before his head explodes. I've yet to find a girl who can chat about cool stuff like ma…_agazines,_ and uh, jousting; sword-play; stuff like that'.

Thankfully, Arthur was still mooning over Gwen, and hadn't picked up on Merlin's near fatal slip-of-the-tongue. 'Gwen likes all those things' he said, with a ridiculously dreamy look on his face. 'She's a real catch, that Guinevere'.

'So go tell her' Merlin urged. 'And let me get on with my chores'.

'Thanks. I think I'll do that. Hey, you _are _a pretty useful servant, after all'.

'_Man_-servant' Merlin called after him. 'Why does _everyone _forget that bit?'

'It didn't work!' Eris grumbled. 'The plot to make Uther think he's gone mad has completely failed! Who'd have thunk it? The man is impervious to magic. Either that or he's got a thicker skull than I gave him credit for! I'll just have to up my efforts! I'll have to…' She turned and seeing who was at her chamber door, shrieked in horror.

'What are _you_ doing here?'

Mab crossed the floor as if she were floating. '_I'm_ here to succeed where you've failed. Really, my dear, when omnipotence was handed out, you didn't even stand in line, did you? You're a God, for Christ's sake, not a rock star! Gods don't attend Masquerade Balls. They sit up on high, and mock those who _do_'.

'I was just trying to see my handiwork up close' Eris pouted. 'Unfortunately, Uther is no more crazy than you or I. I'm going to have to go to Plan B'.

'And what is Plan B, pray tell?' Mab asked. 'Do you even know?'

'I was getting to that' Eris sulked. 'But you know we _could _combine our efforts'.

'There will be no need for that. I'm here to start a war. A war Uther cannot win. If that doesn't convince his constituents to lobby for his early retirement, nothing will. And if that doesn't work, I _could _always poison the blighter'.

'What, with fairy dust?' Eris scoffed. Mab's tiny little off-sider glared at her from under his heavy lids. 'And who's this, by the way?'

'This is Alfric. Alfie, bow to the Goddess Eris. She might not have succeeded in her task but she's still technically a deity. Even if she's happier prancing about with mortals these days'.

'I don't prance' Eris said, glaring at the both of them and crossing her arms. 'I hover. And sometimes I skulk. But I don't prance'.

'Whatever' sighed Mab. 'Okay… If you're intent on _hovering_ about, maybe you could do something for me. I want to start a war. I want the people of Come-a-lot to lose faith in their king. How are you at kidnappings?'

'Who do you want me to kidnap?' Eris asked, intrigued.

'We can't talk here. Meet me at the Drunken Sailor in an hour. I'll fill you in, then'.

'A _pub_? You want me to enter a filthy, dirty, common _pub_?'

Mab raised an eyebrow at the Goddess. 'If you want in on my plan, then yes. You've had no trouble acting human so far; Balls and all! Just meet me at the pub I mentioned, and I'll tell you all you need to know'.

'Arthur'

'Gwen'

'Arthur'

'Gwen'

It was the clichéd scene on the beach, with the two young lovers running toward each other, only it wasn't the beach, it was the courtyard, and Arthur had to jump in order to miss stepping in a huge pile of horse dung. But he reached Gwen just in time to hear her say the words he wanted to hear. 'I'm so sorry' she gushed. 'I was never really interested in Lance, I just wanted to make you jealous'.

'Well, it worked' he told her. 'I had a gut-ache so bad I thought it was wind. But it only really hurt when I thought of you and him, together. I realised I still had feelings for you, and I had to tell you right away. So I got one of my men to go looking for you two. He found you in a carriage beside the lake, shagging each other's brains out. You can imagine how I felt then, but instead of hating you, it only served to make me want you more! _And _kill Lancelot, but I'll sort that out later'. He ran his hand through her long dark curls. 'It's you I've wanted all along' he told her. 'Not Eris'.

'I know' Gwen smiled. 'Camilla told me. She reads minds, remember? I talked to her at the Ball, when I was all still worked up about you dumping me to escort Eris, and she told me I don't have anything to worry about'.

'She can read minds?' Arthur said, frowning. 'But that's witchcraft! Only hags and warlocks can read minds! I must tell Father! Things of that nature are forbidden in Come-a-Lot! I…'

But he didn't get to finish his sentence because Gwen threw herself on him, kissing him passionately, making him forget all about dobbing on Camilla Everhart.

Gaius slipped into Merlin's chambers, and tiptoed to the door of the bathroom. He knew the boy had just finished his morning's chores and was having his customary bath to clean off the filth of the stables. Peering around the doorjamb, the old perve couldn't believe his luck. Merlin was standing before the mirror, straight-razor in hand, having a shave! Here's my chance, he thought. Waiting until the blade was safely in the sink (he needed a _drop_ of Merlin's blood, not a bucket), he made his presence known.

'Let me do that' he said to the young warlock. 'You're forever cutting yourself, and I was once one of the best barbers in this county _and_ the next'.

'Oh' Merlin said, 'Well… Okay'.

Gaius took up the straight razor and stood behind Merlin, a little too close for the younger man's liking, but since he had the sink in front of him, couldn't move away.

'Uh… Gaius?' He asked, as his mentor swished the blade in the sink, 'You couldn't possibly… err… put down your wand while you're doing that, could you? It's sticking into me'.

'Sorry about that' Gaius mumbled, and took a hasty step back. 'Is that better?'

'Much'.

'I see you've cut yourself already'. Gaius slipped a hand into his pocket and withdrew a piece of blotting paper, which he used to remove a spot of Merlin's blood from his cheek, then put back into his pocket before Merlin could realise what happened. 'Really, Merlin, you've been shaving for how long? You should have it down by now'.

'I know, but _you _try to shave this face! It's like trying to ski the Andes' grumbled Merlin.

'Be thankful you're young and you can still _see _your cheekbones' Gaius told him. 'When you get old, your skin sags, and you get double chins, and shaving becomes so hard, sometimes you think why bother, but then if you don't, you tend to look like you've got a scrotum growing out of your chin…'

'Ew, Gaius' Merlin laughed, 'Gross'.

Gaius finished shaving Merlin's face and tossed the razor in the sink. Turning, he took up the towel around the boy's shoulders and patted his cheeks dry. 'There. Perfect' he said, trying not to let his lecherous eyes slide down Merlin's chest to his… Gaius gave himself a mental slap and left the room quickly, before Merlin could see how flushed his cheeks were, or how the front of his robes were protruding strangely, and not wand-like, at all! 'Thanks, Gaius' said Merlin, smiling, as he walked over to his bed, where he'd left his clothes. Gaius was standing at the bookshelf, pretending to look at Merlin's books, but what he was really trying to do was think about un-sexy things, like washing dishes, or mucking out stables, in order to relieve his current, err, situation. He thought he finally had the problem sorted when he turned and saw Merlin bending over to fetch his underwear from the floor…

'I – I have to go now' Gaius stammered, nervously. 'I have p-potions to uh… err… make'

'But you just got here' Merlin said, looking confused. He slid his Bonds Comfy Undies up his skinny legs and under the towel around his waist. Gaius moaned audibly and raced from the room, leaving the young warlock scratching his head and wondering what on earth _that_ was all about!

Eris made a face as she and Camilla entered the Drunken Sailor, a favourite pub of the downtrodden and disenfranchised in Come-a-lot. Fortunately no knights frequented the place, nor dignitaries, so it was the perfect meeting spot for those plotting against the king. Alfie ordered a Guinness on tap and Camilla a Fluffy Duck while their mistresses found a table in the corner, and began speaking in earnest whispers. 'I wonder what they're plotting' Camilla said, in a low voice, as the two servants gathered their drinks and headed for a nearby table. 'My Lady has been trying to drive Uther insane for a couple of days now and nothing's worked. I don't imagine starting a war will do the trick'.

'Oh, my Lady's far smarter than that' Alfie bragged. 'She won't just be starting a war; she'll be out for total anarchy. Which is where _your _Lady should come in. Being the Goddess of Chaos, and all that'.

'Yes, well, my Lady _is _good at stirring the pot' conceded Camilla. 'You know, one time, she didn't like the way Apollo was bossing around the demi-gods, so she turned him into a lame ass, just for the fun of it'.

'That's nothing' Alfie mocked. '_My _Lady got so mad with her sister, she drowned her, and now her sister's ghost haunts the lake where she died, and she _can't leave_. How's that for nasty? _Her own sister_'.

'You seem quite impressed' Camilla pointed out. 'By the way, who does your eyeliner? It's _totally_ the wrong colour for you'.

'I told My Lady that, but she wanted me to wear something other than black' Alfie grumbled. 'So charcoal grey was as close as I could get'.

'_I _could do your make-up for you' Camilla offered. 'I'm quite good at that. What foundation do you use?'

'Oh, Max Factor, of course… It's the make-up of make-up artists…'

'Oh', Camilla giggled, 'Don't believe _everything_ you hear'

'Camilla! Get over here' Eris barked, interrupting their conversation.

'And you too, Alfie'

The two servants grabbed their drinks and headed over to their superiors in the corner.

'You two' Mab said, casting a critical eye over both, 'Can do a job for me'.

'But I'm not…' Camilla started to say, but a glare from Eris cut her short. 'Okay'.

'Come here. Sit down. Here is what I want you to do…'

Next on Misadventures of Merlin…

Mab puts her nefarious plan into action,

Gaius puts _his_ nefarious plan into action,

And Merlin has a not-so-secret admirer!


	4. Chapter 4

**Episode 4 – Love Potion Number 9**

'Damn' Merlin thought. 'That didn't work'.

He was busy trying to come up with a spell to calm the savage beast. The last dragon, Kilgaro, Uther's prisoner underneath the castle for the past twenty years, was getting antsy. And also, rather rambunctious, which on a dragon; is neither fun nor safe. He wanted out, but Merlin couldn't guarantee his freedom just yet. Besides, he was damn handy in a bind. He knew things about Merlin's destiny that no one else knew, and so the young warlock couldn't bring himself to do the deed. Music hadn't worked to calm Kilgaro down, so the next best thing was a sleeping draught, of some sort. But none of Gaius's books seemed to have anything helpful in them.

Until he found a small brown, leather bound book sitting on Gaius's bedside table. Flicking through the pages, he found the spell he wanted almost immediately, but after he finished copying it to a piece of parchment, a light breeze blew in through the window, and sent Gaius's bookmark flying across the room.

'Bother!' Merlin hissed, as the pages flipped over and he couldn't find the spell Gaius had been reading. He thought he had seen the word "Enchantment" in the title though, and when he found the right page, put the bookmark back in. He'll never know, Merlin thought to himself, slipping the book back from whence it came. Now, to go and sooth the savage beast! I hope!

Uther had just seen his third villager of the day when that hell-bitch Mab walked in like she owned the place, throwing his knights around the room with a wave of her hand.

'Off with her head!' he screamed to his royal henchmen, but they didn't move a muscle.

'Oh, I've paralysed them' Mab explained. 'Couldn't have them throwing me in the dungeon, now, could I?'

'You're not supposed to be here. You're a… you're a… a…'

'Go on and say it, old man! I'm a witch! And I'm ten times more powerful than anything you've got stashed around here, let me just get _that _straight! But I haven't come to put a spell on you, or a curse, or anything like that. Oh – by the way, I see the Leprosy curse worked a treat. Not'. She chuckled to herself. 'Old Maggie's quite the card, but she's totally lost the plot as far as magic's concerned. The old crone couldn't turn water into wine, these days'.

'What do _you_ know of that old crone who visited me the other day? Were you behind that?' Uther asked, his voice reaching an irritatingly high pitch.

'Of course not. When I want to curse someone, I bloody well curse them! I don't send someone else to do my dirty work for me!'

'So who was it?'

'How the hell should I know? Face it, old man; you've got more enemies than you can shake a stick at! Someone's out to get you – and that's why I'm here'.

Uther glared at her. 'You've come to gloat, I suppose?'

'No. Actually, I've come to help you'.

'I'll believe _that_ when I see it. Actually – I _won't _believe that. Ever. You're from the old ways. The old ways are wicked, and evil. How am I supposed to believe you're on my side, when I seek to destroy you and all you stand for?'

'You _do_ have a point, but hear me out. I have come to warn you that your city is under attack. Your ward, Morgana, has been kidnapped. If you don't believe me, go check her chambers'.

'And how do I know you're not behind all this?' roared Uther. 'If you touch a hair on her head…'

'_I _won't, because I don't have her' Mab said, calmly. 'But I hear the Druids are responsible for the kidnapping, and _they_ won't hand her back until you've restored magic to the kingdom – or relinquished the throne. If you don't, they will kill her, and war will be upon you'.

Uther's eyes flashed, angrily. 'Don't you dare threaten me, Witch! Men, seize her!'

The king's faithful knights moved to grab Queen Mab, but she threw them off again just as easily as she had when she'd first walked in. They fell about on the floor, one of them gasping in agony as his shoulder crunched sickeningly inside his armour.

'I told you I am more powerful than anyone or anything you've got going around here' Mab reminded him. 'You'd do well to remember that'.

Uther sighed. 'And why am I to believe that you actually want to help? You've given me nothing but trouble over the years'.

'It's not you I want to help. It's Morgana. She's my niece, remember? By marriage, but whatever. She's in trouble and I truly believe the Druids are serious this time. They _will _kill her if you don't change the law or stand down. The way I see it, you've got no other choice'.

'I'll send my men into the woods to flush out the filthy sorcerers' Uther spat, 'And rescue Morgana! What do you say to _that_?'

'I say you'd be crazy' Mab replied. 'The Druids have a magic shield over their area of the forest. No weapon forged can pierce it. They'll see you coming from a mile away, and they'll kill Morgana right in front of your eyes! Is that what you want?'

'No… No' Uther croaked, sounding defeated. 'Let me think on this'.

'Well, don't take too long' Mab advised. 'You have a deadline – midnight. If the laws against magic in this land are not abolished by then, Morgana's body will be delivered to your doorstep, and all hell will break loose. And if I know the Druids; that is _not _something you want to have happen'.

Uther stared at the tall blonde woman who dared to challenge him in his own throne room and, seeing that he couldn't do anything to her, at least not right in front of her face, sighed in resignation. 'Give me some time, woman. Clearly I have to come up with a plan to defeat the Druids. This kingdom will play host to magic over my dead body'.

'Well… It may well _be _over your dead body' Mab told him. 'And I promise you, I won't come to _your _aid. I'll save Morgana if I can, but _you_… Come-a-lot would be better off without you'.

The second she'd said those words, the heavy double doors burst open, and a young man with wavy dark hair and very strange, off-putting clothes ran in, panting.

'Giles!' he called, looking straight at Uther. 'You've got to come and help Buffy!'

Mab rolled her large blue eyes, and turned on the intruder. 'You've got the wrong sound stage, buster! And by the way, what are you, in a time warp? Buffy's been over for _years_, and you're _still _wearing that god-awful Hawaiian shirt'.

'Seize him' Uther roared. 'He's in consort with a witch! _Two_ witches!'

His henchmen, still under Mab's trance, didn't move an inch. 'Oh bloody hell' Uther groaned. 'Will you take that spell or trance or whatever you've done, off them?'

'Sorry, no can do' said Mab, inspecting her fingernails, which were more like talons. 'It'll wear off, eventually'. To Xander Harris she said, 'I'd get out of here, if I were you. He's not a humble librarian, these days'.

Xander almost fell over his own feet trying to leave the room, but finally the doors of the throne room closed behind him.

'Well' Uther said, settling back down in his throne, '_That _was weird'.

'Just remember what I said' Mab repeated, ominously. 'Morgana will die if you do not step down and allow your son to take the throne; or abolish the laws making magic punishable by death. It's your choice, Uther'. She turned and walked toward the doors as if she had all the time in the world, then swivelled back toward him, as if she'd forgotten something. 'You know, it might sound like a paradox, but you really _were_ cooler when you were the fuddy-duddy librarian' she told him. 'At least then, you _liked_ magic!'

'Get out of here, hag, before I have you drawn and quartered' yelled Uther, who obviously didn't like being reminded of his pagan past. 'And don't let the door hit your fat arse on the way out!'

'I just don't understand it' Eris complained. 'It's as if… none of my magic works in this place! Uther was supposed to go mad; he was _supposed_ to be hideous, with awful pus-filled boils all over his face by mid-morning yesterday, and what's happened? Nothing, that's what! Yet Mab can fling people around like they're made of paper! What the hell's going on with me? I'm a God, and I'm as useless as… as…'

'A cock-flavoured lolly-pop?' suggested Camilla. 'Sorry – always wanted to use that one'.

'Worse' Eris sulked. 'A _booger_-flavoured lolly-pop. Or some other flavour no one wants, like ginger, or aniseed'.

'Cheer up; Boss' Camilla said, putting a hand on the goddess's shoulder. 'At least you have your looks. Mab doesn't even have that'.

'That's true enough' Eris conceded. 'She's really let herself go to seed, hasn't she? I suppose she can just do a glamour and look like Michelle Pfeiffer whenever she feels like it, though. You'd think she would, with _that_ face. I've seen better heads on a mug of beer'. She sighed. 'Nope – not even plain old bitchiness is making me feel better today! I think I'll go look for Arthur. Maybe _he_ can make me feel better'.

'I bet he will' grinned Camilla; then remembered something just as her boss was leaving the room. 'Oh! Um; Eris? Your Excellence? Your Wondrous, Guiding Light? I forgot to tell you…'

She stared down the vacant hallway. Eris was nowhere to be seen. Oh shit, Camilla thought. I better warn Gwen and Arthur!

The Goddess's tiny, pixie-like beautician didn't have any particular magic gifts, other than to give and to take away beauty, so she couldn't just click her fingers and be wherever Gwen and Arthur were. She had to actually go look for them. 'Great' she grumbled. 'Please don't be doing anything gross when I get there. Please? I'm only young. I don't need _that_ kind of image burnt onto my retina for all eternity'.

'Who are you talking to?'

Camilla spun around to see Merlin coming out of the first floor bathroom. 'Oh, hi' she said, feeling awkward. After all, she _had_ dumped him the night of the Ball. He was all kinds of cute, but she could never date a man who danced like a retarded giraffe.

'Hi'.

'You don't… know where Gwen and Arthur are, by any chance, do you?'

'No. Why?'

'Oh… nothing. Forget it. Look – I hope you don't hold what I said the other night against me. I'm just… not looking for anything long term…'

Merlin smiled, and for a second there Camilla almost changed her mind about him. It was those dimples. They could really do a girl's head in! But she caught herself just in time. 'No, of course I don't' he said. 'I had a good time; I hope you had a good time. That's all there was to it, wasn't there?'

'Oh, yes, absolutely' said Camilla, relieved. 'If you see Gwen and Arthur, please warn them Eris is looking for Arthur. And I don't think she knows about them yet, so it's going to come as somewhat of a surprise'.

Merlin rolled his large blue eyes toward the ceiling. 'Well, that's just typical of Arthur! I suppose he expected _you _to tell her she's dumped? Or me? Yes, _that _sounds like him! Make the man-servant do the dirty work…'

'I've got to go' said Camilla, amused. 'I have to find them before she does'.

'I'll come with' Merlin offered. 'You might need backup'.

Gaius carried a small bottle of the mixture he'd been working on for the past few weeks down the hall under his robes, so none of the king's guards would see it and guess – rightly – that it was a magic potion, not a perfectly legal healing draught or tincture. That would be disastrous. He had waited a long time to work this kind of magic, too long to let certain death stand in the way!

Knocking on a door in the village, he waited until a smallish man answered the door, wearing what looked like a nappy.

'What?' the giant man-baby spat, when he saw the way Gaius was staring at him. ''Aven't you ever seen a bloke wearin' a nappy, before?'

'Actually, I can't say that I have' Gaius replied, trying not to laugh. 'But whatever floats your boat, as they say'.

'Are you suggestin' that I wear this for some kind of role-playin' thing wiv me Missus? 'Cause I'll tell you…' he seemed to stop and think for a second or two; then grinned. 'You're absolutely right. But it's not _my_ kink, you understand; it's 'ers. _I _wanted to see her with another woman, but _oh no_…'

'Um… Pardon me for interrupting, but are you Cupid, the town's premier archer? I'm looking for someone who's an expert with a bow and arrow. This has to look like an accident' Gaius said quickly, before he could hear another word about the strange little man's sex life. And people think _I_ have odd predilections, he thought. At least I don't get off on dressing like an infant!

'Oh, so this is _business_' said Cupid, looking relieved. 'Thank Christ for that'. Over his shoulder he yelled, 'Eh, Bu'ercup, I'll be back in a tic, right? Got some work to do'. Throwing a cloak over his shoulders, he motioned for Gaius to follow him. 'Down the back' he said. 'We'll be safer discussin' this in me office'.

Uther had gathered his knights at the Kind of Round but Slightly Oblong Table in the conference room, all but Arthur, whom no one seemed to be able to find. Oh well, he thought, I'll have to get Galahad or one of the others to hunt him down after. This is simply too important to leave until Master Pendragon has finished polishing his sword, or whatever the heck he's been doing all morning! He faced his loyal protectors with a grim expression. 'War has come to our great kingdom' he began. 'The Druids have kidnapped my dear ward, Morgana, and they're threatening to kill her if I don't meet their demands'.

'So, meet their demands' said Galahad, who looked pained to hear of Morgana's absence. 'What's so hard about that?'

'What's hard about that, you dolt, is that the Druids are asking me to either stand down as king or abolish the death penalty for magic! And I utterly refuse to do either'.

'You're so stubborn!' cried Galahad. 'You're willing to risk her life for your unreasonable prejudices! It's ridiculous, that's what it is, and I won't let you do it!'

'And what exactly do you think you can do to me?' Uther said, narrowing his cold grey eyes. 'Kill me? Your fellow knights would drop you before you could draw your sword'.

'Actually, Sire…' Lancelot put up his hand. '_I _wouldn't. He's a mate'.

'You're supposed to be loyal to myself and Arthur alone!' Uther roared. 'I want you out of this castle, and out of Come-a-lot, Traitor! And might I suggest you be quick about it; before I decide to have you executed for treason'.

Lancelot jumped as if someone had shoved a red hot poker up his arse, and ran for the doors as quickly as he could, armour and chain mail be damned!

'Hey that's not fair, Sire' said Pellinor, whose face was pale despite being the colour of chocolate. 'Making him choose between a good friend and his allegiance to the throne'.

'Silence' said Uther, in a voice no one dared argue with. 'Now. We must address this very real threat to our kingdom. I want four of you to go into the woods with Arthur and hunt down these so-called Druids. The other half I want to stay here and get the rest of the townspeople prepared for battle. They may come at us with magic; I want us to fight back like _men_. Hit them, and hit them _hard_, before they can utter a single enchantment or incantation'.

'That's it then' said Gawain, in a low voice. 'We're as good as dead'.

'I know' sighed Galahad. 'And so is Morgana'.

'My Lady'.

'Who are you?' The beautiful ward of the King was lying on a stained mattress in one of the many dungeons underneath the castle. Stupid Uther, thought Alfie, if he had a brain in his head he'd realise she was right here under his own roof, instead of out in the woods where she was supposed to be. But Uther was not a man to whom rational thinking came easy. If she'd left the building, one of his sentries, knights, henchmen or other hired goons would have known about it. Hell, they had to open the gates, in order for her to leave, or be carried out, didn't they? Fools!

'My name's Alfric' he told her. 'Wow, you really are a regulation hottie. Mab said you'd be pretty, but jeez…'

'Thank you' said Morgana, sitting up. 'Where am I?'

'You're underneath the castle' he told her. 'Oh don't worry – no one's going to hurt you. You're part of a plot that's going to bring magic back to Come-a-lot. You want that, don't you? I mean, I heard the Druids say you've got magic in you'.

'What do you know of the Druids? Have you seen Mordred? Can you get a message to him?'

Alfric shrugged. 'Don't know no Mordred. All I know is, my Lady wants me to keep you down here until we get what we want. The Druids, the Wicca – all the magic people in the village want Uther gone. And this is the best way to do it'.

'How do I come into it?' Morgana asked, frowning. 'I don't get it'.

'Uther thinks you've been kidnapped by the Druids. He thinks they'll kill you if he doesn't change the laws that keep magic from the kingdom; or stand down. Either one will suffice'.

'Uther will never do that. He might stand down, but only on his death bed! He doesn't think Arthur is ready to rule yet! And as for letting magic back in…' Morgana shook his head, 'No – I'm afraid he'd sooner see my dead body on his doorstep than have that. As much as he cares for me, he hates magic more'.

'Why? That's stupid' Alfric said, a sneer on his face. 'It doesn't make any sense'.

'Magic killed his beloved wife, Ygraine, in childbirth', Morgana explained. 'A life for a life, you understand. She could not have children, so Nimueh gave him a son. But the rules of magic meant that…'

'The balance must be kept, I know. I'm pretty well-versed in magic lore. I'm a fairy, in case you didn't know. I work for Queen Mab'.

'Queen Mab! _Now_ I understand' Morgana gasped. 'Uther _hates_ her! He won't let anyone mention her name within the castle walls! To do so is treason, and you know what the punishment is for treason…'

'I know, I know, you lose your head' Alfric rolled his dark eyes. 'I'm well aware of that. Uther's bloodlust is famous, or rather, infamous, where _I _come from'.

'So you know this isn't going to work' Morgana told him. 'Please tell Mab to back off, and let me go! This isn't going to get you what you want. If anything, my death will bring war on your lands. I'm sure you don't want _that_'.

'Sorry… Can't do that, I'm afraid' Alfric said. 'My dark mistress, my black goddess… she won't stop until magic is restored to Come-a-lot and its surrounds. You, my dear, I hate to say, are a means to an end'.

Morgana slumped on the mattress. 'So' she said, in a flat tone, 'If I'm to die, Alfred, or whatever your name is, can I at least get something to eat? I'm _starving_'.

'Certainly' said Alfric. 'And it's Al_fric._ But I prefer Alfie. What does her Highness request?'

'Oh sod off with the royal talk, I'm sick of it' said Morgana. 'A ham sandwich will do'.

Alfie clicked his fingers, and before Morgana's eyes, abracadabra'd up a ham sandwich on a silver plate. He leaned over and handed it to her, watching in amusement as she wolfed it down. 'Steady on, Princess' he said, 'You wouldn't want to choke'.

'Actually' said Morgana, with her mouth full, 'I don't much care if I do'.

Arthur rolled off Gwen and grinned as she giggled and tried to uncurl her toes. 'That was _brilliant_' she told him. 'Better than the first five times, even'.

'I'm glad you're satisfied with my performance' he said. 'However, I think it might be time to get up and join the rest of the world'.

'Oh, do we have to?' Gwen asked, turning on her side and running a hand over his manly chest. 'I could stay here forever'.

'I know, my love – so could I' Arthur replied, kissing her forehead. 'But as prince and future king of Come-a-lot, I have responsibilities'.

'I know, I know' Gwen sighed. 'But don't you ever get a day off?'

'Every second Sunday of the month, usually. Unless there's a war; or some other emergency'.

'And with Uther as King, there's always a war going on' Gwen groaned. 'Seriously, does the man actually have any friends left?'

'Now, come on! You can't expect me to trash-talk my old man behind his back' Arthur laughed, and Gwen, narrowing her eyes, dug a finger into his ribcage, making him collapse onto the mattress, helpless with laughter. 'Oh, don't! Don't, I _hate _being tickled'.

'I know. And _you_ know you trash-talk your old man _all_ the time!' Gwen chuckled. 'Go on, off with you! I have things to attend to, as well. Morgana's probably wondering where her loyal handmaiden is'.

'Morgana's a smart girl' Arthur said, grinning. 'She could probably guess where you are'.

Gwen blushed. 'I suppose so. I _did_ tell her I was going to sort things out with you about Lancelot'. She pulled her petticoat up and laced the front, quickly.

'And from there to a marathon sex session is _not_ exactly taking a great leap of logic' Arthur laughed, pulling her into an embrace that would make a Mills and Boon reader swoon. 'I'll see _you _later, Gorgeous'.

Gwen was barely out of his arms before the door swung open and Merlin, followed by Eris's handmaiden, Camilla, burst in. 'There you are!' Camilla sighed, relieved. 'I've been looking for you guys everywhere!'

'Why?' Arthur asked, puzzled. 'Has Father called a meeting, or something?'

'Well… Yeah' said Merlin, 'But that's not why we're here. You missed the meeting – it was an hour ago. We've come to tell you that Eris is looking for you, Arthur. She thought you'd be in your room, but since she doesn't know you two are together, she hasn't checked here yet… and on that…' he added, 'It was awfully nice of you to let the poor girl know she's dumped before you moved onto Gwen, here'.

'Oh, crap' said Arthur, slapping himself upside the head. 'I forgot all about Eris'.

'You forgot about me?'

Everyone turned toward the door, and Arthur turned six shades of pale. Eris did not look impressed. Especially not when her lavender eyes took in his state of undress (he was wearing his Jockey shorts and a big grin) and Gwen's coy smile!

'You… forgot…about… me'. She repeated. 'That's great. That's just bloody _great_!

Everyone, have a ball, do what you like, and forget all about little old me! I'll be all right! After all, I'm a God, aren't I?'

'Uh… well… Yeah' said Arthur, looking confused. 'What's your point?'

'My point is, I was summoned here by you, Arthur Pendragon, in order to do a job. Sure, I'm having a little trouble with that job, but does that mean I need to be kicked to the curb the moment something better comes along?' She eyed Gwen, suspiciously. 'Okay, it wasn't meant to be a major relationship; or anything like that, but the _least_ you could have done was let me know you're keen on someone else! Here I am, running around like a chook with its head cut off, looking for a booty call, and you're already spoken for!'

'Oh' said Arthur, red-faced. 'Sorry 'bout that'.

'No matter' said Eris. She spotted Merlin standing by the window and a sly smile appeared on her face. 'It's been fun, Arthur, but I need my space! You' she pointed at Merlin, 'Come here'.

'Uh… Er… Me?' Merlin asked, looking flustered. 'Are you talking to me?'

'Yes, I'm talking to you. Have you got some little floozy tucked away in your chambers? 'Cause I want to know before I waste my time…'

'Well… uh… no, but…'

'Merlin's got chores to do' said Arthur. 'Haven't you, Merlin?'

'Actually… so have you', Merlin informed him. 'Your father wants you to hunt down the Druids in the woods. They've kidnapped Morgana, and…'

Gwen gasped in horror. 'Morgana's been kidnapped? When did this happen?'

'Sometime between your first and third roll in the sack, I'd expect' Eris snapped. 'It happened this morning. I was the one who discovered her missing'.

Arthur grabbed his undershirts off the hook on the wall. 'Enough said. Merlin, get my armour ready! And get some chain mail for yourself, while you're at it. You're coming with me'.

'But _why_?' Merlin asked, glancing back at Eris, wistfully. 'You don't need me to help you'.

Arthur smirked. 'It's a little less about helping me and a little more about helping you not get yourself into a world of hurt! Have you ever had… ahem… relations with a God?'

'He's right, you know' Eris admitted, sheepishly. 'The word is Stamina'.

'She'd ride you into the ground, my friend' Arthur grinned. 'You're safer coming with me'.

No sooner as had he said the words, than an arrow soared through the window, heading straight for Merlin! Arthur saw it first, and in a split second, threw himself in front of his loyal manservant.

'No!' shrieked Gwen, as the arrow pierced Arthur's right shoulder. He collapsed against her, and with the help of a shell-shocked Merlin, she laid him on the bed. 'Go get Gaius' Gwen ordered Merlin. 'I'll look after him'.

Merlin nodded and took off, Camilla close behind him. Back in Arthur's chambers, Eris leaned over the prince, a strange look on her face. 'I've seen these arrows before' she said, finally. 'See the quiver? It's painted red'.

'What's that supposed to mean?' asked Gwen, who'd grabbed a washcloth from Arthur's bathroom and was mopping his forehead. 'Who do you think it belongs to? Who could be trying to shoot the prince?'

'I don't think he was aiming for Arthur, whoever he was' Eris said, distractedly. 'I rather think Merlin was his target'.

'_Merlin_? Who would want to shoot Merlin?'

'That's a good question' Eris replied. 'I have no idea. He's just a servant, after all'.

'_Man_-servant' Gwen reminded her. 'And he's the best there is'.

'Ooh' said Eris, with a sly grin. 'Do I detect a soft spot for the prince's dogsbody?'

'No!' said Gwen, hotly. 'I mean, I _did _have a thing for him when he first came here, but then Arthur flashed his pearly whites at me, and I was as good as gone'. She leaned over her man and kissed his feverish brow. 'Will he be okay?'

'Of course he will' said Eris. 'Might have a bit of nerve damage from where the arrow's landed in his shoulder, but it shouldn't keep him from being able to wield his sword'.

'Oh, good' said Gwen, relieved. 'Because I wouldn't want him to be unable to wield his sword'.

'Not _that_ sword, you nympho' Eris chortled. 'His _actual_ sword. Excalibur?'

'That's the sword I was talking about' said Gwen, defensively.

'Yeah, right' scoffed Eris. 'Oh… Here's Gaius. Stand back and cover your ears'.

'Why?'

'Because he's got to take the arrow out, that's why! Do you think he's going to leave it in there?'

'Bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger… and bugger it all!' cursed Gaius, as he headed back to his dungeon. Thankfully Merlin had decided not to join him, but had stayed around to help look after his boss, who, when injured was a harder taskmaster than when he was at full strength! The rest of the knights were fulfilling their sacred duty to the king, and Arthur was impatient to go and help despite his current invalid status. Gaius was careful to dispose of the arrow quickly, the moment he'd pulled it from Arthur's flesh, as he didn't want the Goddess Eris to see the strange colour of the arrow's tip. It was of course, dipped in the potion he'd been concocting for the past two weeks. The potion that had been meant for Merlin!

Cupid was waiting for Gaius in the dungeon. 'So… 'ow's the prince?'

'Fine, no thanks to you' grumbled Gaius. 'I thought you were supposed to be an expert marksman?'

'I am! But I can't help it if the prince decides to be an 'ero, can I? Had a clear shot on me target, too, 'til Pendragon got in the way'. The short balding man, who was still wearing the nappy underneath his cloak, squinted at Gaius in the dim light of the dungeon. 'Ere, what'd you want to shoot the skinny kid for, anyway? What's 'e ever done to you?'

'Nothing, nothing' said Gaius, quickly. 'It's a private matter'.

Cupid shrugged. 'Whatever. As long as you pay up, who cares, right? No real 'arm's been done'.

'Pay up? But you didn't even do the job I asked of you!'

''Ey, steady on! I lined up the shot; 'n' I took it! It ain't my fault if it 'it the wrong bloke! This is breach of contract, this is! I'll 'ave you in civil court'. Cupid's face was flushed and his voice was starting to carry. Thank God for the shagpile soundproofing, Gaius thought. The last thing I need is for someone to hear this imbecile cough up my plan!

'Okay, okay' he relented. 'I'll pay you. But only half of what I promised, since the job wasn't done to my satisfaction'.

'Two thirds' bartered Cupid.

'Fine' Gaius sighed, sifting through the bag of coins he'd prepared to pay the archer. 'Here. Two hundred pounds, right there in your greedy little fist! Does that suffice?'

'It most certainly does' Cupid beamed. 'Pleasure doing business wiv ya, Guv'.

'My name's _not _Guv, and it was most certainly _not _a pleasure' sniped Gaius. 'This whole mess has only proved one thing – that if you want something done, you've got to do it yourself'.

'What, _you're_ gonna shoot the wing-nut wiv a crossbow? I'd like to see that' Cupid said, following it up with a big belly laugh that caused his robe to fall open.

'I couldn't do a worse job than what you did' Gaius replied, trying not to look. 'And he's _not_ a wing-nut. He's got perfectly lovely ears'.

'Whatever you say, Doc' Cupid replied, winking knowingly. 'I'm gonna get me out of 'ere and go and buy a nice new fishing pole wiv this, before the Missus claps 'er peepers on it, 'n I never see it again! Smell ya la'er, Guv!'

Hideous man, thought Gaius with a shudder, the minute Cupid was out of earshot. I suppose I'd better go up and see what the damage is. Let's hope Arthur's not showing any symptoms of the potion, just yet – at least, not until I can prepare an antidote. Botherations! I was really looking forward to testing out the mind-controlling qualities of that one, too!

The old healer took up his medicine bag and turned the light off in the dungeon. 'Oh well' he said, to the empty room, with The Rack standing silent at one end, 'I suppose if I've waited this long; I can wait one more day'.

'How are you, Arthur?'

Merlin stood over his boss's sick bed, a box of the prince's favourite candies – liquorice allsorts – in his hand. 'I brought some of these along with you… I know they're your favourites'.

Arthur was sitting up by now, shirtless (as per Gaius's instructions) with a bandage wrapped around his injured shoulder and across his chest, like a bandolier. Merlin bit his lip. 'I can't tell you how much I appreciate your taking a bullet for me like that. Oh, I know it wasn't technically a bullet, but…'

'Oh stop your yammering, Merlin' said Arthur, good-naturedly. 'How many times have you saved my life, in the past? I was just returning the favour'.

'And like I said, I appreciate it'.

'Point taken. So – have they found Morgana yet?'

'Nope' said Merlin, frowning. 'There's no sign of the Druids in the forest, either! It's like they've upped stumps and just disappeared! Something's fishy about all this. It doesn't add up'.

'Oh well – whatever it is, I'm sure you'll sort it out. You're smart that way, Merlin' said Arthur, and Merlin stared down at his boss. 'Are you all right, my Lord?'

'Yeah, why?' asked Arthur, opening the box of Allsorts and holding it out to Merlin, who declined.

'I feel fine. Other than the nagging ache in my shoulder, that is. Why?'

'It's just that… You don't think I'm smart. You're always calling me an idiot' Merlin reminded him. 'I think this is the first time you've ever admitted I've got a brain'.

'Of _course _you've got a brain' Arthur said, looking up at Merlin with a curious expression on his face. Merlin couldn't quite put his finger on it. Was it…Could it be… respect?

'The trouble is, Merlin, I've been far too hard on you in the past. Putting you in the stocks for silly things like forgetting to clean up the dinner plates! Getting the villagers to throw rotten fruit at you – it's just so… so… _mean_'.

Merlin couldn't believe what he was hearing. 'I think I better go get Gaius' he said. 'You've probably got a fever. You sound delirious'.

'I'm fine, Merlin! If you don't believe me, check'. Arthur grabbed Merlin's hand, and put it against his forehead. 'See? Cool as a cucumber. I'm getting better, and Father says as soon as I can hold a sword in my right hand I can join the others in the hunt for Morgana! You can come too, if you like'.

Merlin's face practically shone with excitement. 'You mean, I can go riding with you and the knights of the Kind of Round but Slightly Oblong Table? That would be _smashing_!'

'It certainly would' said Arthur, beaming back up at him. 'Like going on a wilderness camp, or something'.

'Um… Yeah' said Merlin, still thinking Arthur sounded a little strange. 'I'll remember to pack the marshmallows'. He pulled his hand away from Arthur, who was holding it rather firmly now.

'You do that' said Arthur. 'And I'll see you first thing tomorrow morning, to saddle up the horses for the trip'.

Merlin frowned. 'You don't think they'll find Morgana before then?'

Arthur shrugged. 'Even if they do, I feel like heading outdoors, you know? Roughing it; being at one with the elements, with my faithful servant – sorry, _man_-servant - at my side! And you _are_ a man, you know, Merlin! In fact, why don't you try growing a beard? Might make you look more rugged; dangerous. The girls love a man who looks rugged and dangerous'.

'They do?' Merlin asked, uncertain. 'I didn't know that'.

'They do' said Arthur, yawning.

'I better let you get some rest' said Merlin. 'We've got a long day tomorrow'.

'Bye, Merlin' Arthur said, sleepily. 'Sweet dreams. I'll see you tomorrow, early, with bells on…' and he was out like a light.

Well, thought Merlin; that was weird! He's never been so nice before!

Running into Gaius in the hallway, the old man nodded a greeting. 'So how is the prince?'

'He's just fallen asleep. Listen, Gaius… I wonder if you could give him something for his fever. He's not sounding like himself. He actually said I was smart, and that he wanted me to go camping with him! I think the wound might be infected, or something. Maybe he's delirious'.

'Now, my boy, let _me_ do the diagnosing, and you can go study your spell book' said Gaius. 'I'll catch up with you at dinner'.

'Okay' said Merlin. 'Bye'.

'Bye' Gaius stepped into Arthur's chambers, and closed the door. Hopefully, if this antidote worked, Arthur wouldn't be under the thrall of the Mind Enchantment Spell for much longer, if at all. Gazing down at the prince, he considered waking him, and pretending the antidote was a preparation to ward off infection, when Arthur suddenly started talking in his sleep.

'Oh… oh Merlin' he murmured. 'Keep doing that… oh _yeah_…'

Gaius's mouth dropped open. 'Oh no' he said, aloud. 'What have I done?'

The potion wasn't supposed to be a love spell, and yet Arthur – the most manly, masculine and totally hetero bloke in the kingdom was having a hot dream about his manservant! It could only be magic… but how?

Gaius took the arrow head out of his pocket and stared down at it. He had a terrible feeling he was going to be up all night checking and rechecking the contents of that potion…

Next on the Misadventures of Merlin…

Arthur and Merlin go camping,

Gaius tries his hand at archery,

And Morgana faces off with Mab


	5. Chapter 5

**Episode 5**** – Don't Stand so Close to Me!**

Gwen couldn't figure it out. All morning she'd been playing Florence Nightingale for Arthur, and he didn't seem to be taking the bait. Not even the mention of a sponge bath could raise his… ahem, interest! What was going on? Was he tired of her, already? Feeling rather at a loose end, since Morgana was still missing, Gwen left Arthur's side and went to try to find Merlin. Maybe he'd have an idea what was wrong with his master. She knew men weren't particularly big on discussing what's going on in their heads, but surely if there was a problem, he would have discussed it with the bloke he spent the most time around?

Gwen found Merlin sitting at a table in his chambers, reading a large book, which he quickly shoved under some papers when she walked in. You're kidding if you think I didn't see that, Gwen thought, but didn't say. Let him have his secrets. He's probably reading something naughty, like the Karma Sutra. Not that he really has anyone to practice on, now that Camilla's dumped him. Poor Merlin. Will he ever get himself a real girlfriend?

Just thinking about relationships reminded Gwen of her own problem, and she crossed the threshold into Merlin's room. 'Hi – I hope I'm not intruding. I just had to ask you something. Woman to man. About men. One particular man, actually... It's for a friend. She's worried about her boyfriend. He's acting all weird and aloof…'

Merlin grinned. 'You wouldn't be talking about Arthur, would you?'

Gwen pretended to be insulted. 'Of course not! This is my friend we're talking about…'

'Uh-huh. Right. Well… I don't know why you're asking _me_ for love advice' Merlin said. 'If I knew anything about love, I'd be out there making it, instead of sitting here like a friendless dork, studying spe…special books'.

'Aha! I _knew_ it! You're looking at porn, aren't you?' Gwen crowed, triumphantly. 'Really, Merlin… you don't have to be ashamed. All men do it from time to time…'

Merlin turned scarlet with embarrassment. 'Oh. I thought you wouldn't guess'.

'Can I see?' Gwen asked, coming further into the room.

'See what?'

'What book you're looking at? I want to see if it's the same one I caught Arthur with. Arabian Nights, I think it was called. Had some pretty graphic pictures inside. You wouldn't _believe_ what Arthur wanted to try out…'

Merlin put his hands over his ears. 'Whoa! _Way_ too much information'.

Gwen reached out for the book under the papers but Merlin got to it first, slamming his hand down on it, just barely missing her fingers. Gwen frowned at him. 'You didn't have to do that! Seriously, I won't laugh at you! I'm curious'.

'You won't like this stuff, seriously, Gwen' Merlin said, quickly. He had to keep her from opening his spell book at all costs. If she saw he was studying magic, it would be all over for him! Merlin trusted Gwen with his life, but one slip of the tongue around Arthur and he'd be thrown in the dungeons, a certain dead man walking. Arthur may not agree with the laws against magic, but while it _was_ law, he was honour bound to ensure no one broke it. Plus what Daddy said, usually went.

Gwen crossed her arms over her chest. 'And why not? Honestly, Merlin, after seeing some of Arthur's kinks, I think I can handle anything _you've_ got to throw at me'.

'Somehow I doubt that'.

'Now you're just making me _more_ curious!'

'Gwen! Guinevere!'

Merlin sighed with relief on hearing Arthur's voice. 'His Nibs must be feeling better if he's up and out of bed' he said to Gwen. 'He's calling you. You better go see what he wants'.

'Isn't that your job?' Gwen replied, arching a brow.

Merlin grinned. 'I know what you're trying to do! You want me to leave the room so you can look at my book! Well it's not going to happen'.

Gwen sighed. 'Fine. Whatever. Be like that. Just know that you've piqued my curiosity, and once you've done that, you won't hear the end of it'. She gave him a knowing smile and turned toward the door.

'Animal husbandry' Merlin called out.

Gwen spun around. 'What?'

Merlin's face was deadpan. He shrugged. 'What can I say – I'm curious, too?'

'You're _sick_!' Gwen cried, disgusted. 'Ugh! I'm out of here'. With that she headed out the door as fast as her legs could take her, presumably to get away from the mad manservant, before he started showing her photos of farm animals bumping uglies.

Merlin leaned back in his chair and wiped his brow with his shirt cuff.

Phew! That was close!

Morgana had spent an uncomfortable night on the lumpy, stained mattress down in the dungeon and wasn't feeling particularly up to visitors. She ached for a long hot shower and her favourite silver brush for her lustrous black tresses, which probably weren't looking too lustrous right now. In fact, she'd spent the night worrying that she'd developed a tangle, and so had woken up every couple of hours to rake a hand through her hair, just in case!

Yawning from her night of broken sleep, Morgana thought she heard a noise at the top of the stairs, and sat up quickly, running a hand over her hair (again) and checking to make sure her bodice was still tied securely. The thought of that male faerie, Albert or whatever his name was, checking out her wares made her stomach churn. He was enough of a lech as it was!

But her visitor was not What's-His-Face. A tall woman with long, brassy, bottle-blonde hair and a chin to rival Brendan Fevola's stepped down from the landing and surveyed her prisoner's digs. 'Wow' she whistled. 'I heard this place was like Auschwitz but the brochures didn't do it justice'.

'I take it you're Queen Mab?' Morgana asked, in an icy voice. 'Your little servant told me you were ugly but his description didn't do _you_ justice, either'.

'I beg your pardon?' screeched Mab. 'What did you say?'

'If you're thinking I'm going to suck up to you to try and get out of here you're mistaken' Morgana replied. 'I've pretty much given up on the idea of freedom. I'm not even sure how long I've been here, considering that this place doesn't have any windows to show the passing of time'.

'You've been down here exactly a day, now. You were kidnapped yesterday morning' Mab informed her, still looking indignant about being insulted – and by some floozy she barely knew. 'But I understand how time could pass more slowly here, being that there's absolutely nothing to do. Would you like some magazines?'

'Actually, yeah!' said Morgana, in a scornful voice. 'And a big screen TV so I can watch The Bold and the Beautiful! I'm getting _awfully _behind just being down here!'

'Oh don't be ridiculous' Mab scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. 'You could miss a _year _of daytime television and catch up in a single episode! Like, would you believe, Taylor's _still _being held hostage by that mad Iranian who planted the bomb at Spectra Fashions?'

Morgana yawned. 'I know how she feels, then! To be a pawn in someone else's game – at the mercy of their whim! Are you going to kill me, or what? Because I'm really getting a backache from lying on this crappy mattress'.

'In time, my dear' said Mab. 'Right now, you're more use to me alive than dead'.

'That's comforting' said Morgana. 'But how's the king supposed to know I'm still alive? Why don't you let me send him a message, begging him to consider your terms? It might work'.

'And if a frog had wings he wouldn't bump his arse when he hopped' said Mab, dryly. 'Nice try, dear, but I doubt it will work'.

'Why don't you let me try, at least?' begged Morgana. 'Come on… I'm _so_ bored! At least it will give me something to do! And if you don't like what I've written, you can make me write it again'.

'Hm' said Mab, thoughtfully. 'That might just work. _Not!_ No, I think I'll stick with my original plan. Sorry'. She turned and started to walk away, but was stopped when she heard the exhausted sobs of her prisoner. Turning around, she saw the girl kneeling on the hard, cold floor, her dark hair in oily clumps, mascara running down her cheeks in rivulets. For once in her charmed life, Morgana La Fey was a complete mess.

'Oh, all right' Mab said, crossly. 'I'll get some paper and a quill and you can write to your heart's content. Won't promise you anyone will _read _your letter, but at least it will keep you quiet, for the time being'.

'Oh thank you, thank you'. Morgana walked on her knees over to the queen of the faeries and threw her arms around the older woman's legs, putting her off balance. Mab found herself falling backward, down, down, until the back of her scone hit the stone floor and she saw pretty little birdies flying around her head. The edges of her vision blurred. Oh no, she thought. That little bitch… she _meant_ to do that! She planned it all along! I must stop her… I _must_….

But before she could raise a hand to freeze Morgana where she stood (or rather, ran, because she was at present taking the stairs two at a time), Mab lost consciousness.

Arthur led his troops up the hill into the woods, his bad arm strapped into a sling, and as he reached the crest of the first rise, turned and waved his good arm and whistled. 'Come on, you jumped-up dung beetles! We don't have all morning!'

'Actually, we do' grumbled Gawain to Galahad. 'The Lady Morgana's been missing for over twenty-four hours, now. The local constabulary says that the odds of her being found alive after that time are considerably worse…'

Arthur glared at his taller, bulkier cousin. 'And the local po-lice are usually right, are they? What do they know about Druids?'

'Okay, okay' sighed Gawain. 'Jeez, touchy!'

'My adopted sister's missing' Arthur pointed out. 'Regardless of the fact that she was a _terrible_ dobber as a child, and was always trying to get me into trouble for the _slightest _thing, I don't want anything to happen to her'.

'Neither do I' said Galahad, wistfully. 'We were supposed to go on our first date last night'.

'I thought the Ball was your first date?' Lancelot asked. 'Great waste of time _that_ turned out'.

'Yeah, for you, maybe' Gawain chuckled. '_I_ however, managed to get the number of this cute little blonde bird. She was looking rather freaked out, so I bought her a drink, and the rest is history'.

Merlin gasped, insulted. 'So _you're _what happened to Camilla! She went missing after our dance, and was gone for like, an hour, then came back and dumped my arse! It was _most_ humiliating'.

'Maybe if you'd learn to dance properly, you wouldn't scare the lassies off so much' laughed Gawain. 'She told me it was like watching a giraffe have a grand mal seizure'.

Merlin pouted, and Arthur's heart went out to him. 'Oh, leave him alone, Gawain' their fearless leader said. 'He can't help being a total mong when it comes to the ladies. After all, he's only had _Gaius_ to show him how to behave'.

'Oh yeah' Gawain nodded. 'That's right'. Remembering something from his recent (and hastily buried) past, he shuddered. 'He might be a great healer, Gaius, but when it comes to the womenfolk, he knows about as much as a prefect from an all-boy's school'.

Arthur laughed. 'You've got a point'. To Merlin he said, with a conspiratorial wink, 'We'll turn the boy into a man, won't we, fellas?'

'Righto' said Lancelot. '_I'll_ teach him how to handle a sword. Girls love a man who can defend himself'.

'And _I'll_ teach him the manly art of wenching' said Galahad, grinning. 'Spout a few lines from my buddy, Will Shakespeare, and the ladies go gaga'.

'Nah, forget that' Arthur said, waving a hand, dismissively. 'The key thing here is; knowing how to kiss. If you can turn a girl's knees to jelly with a touch of your lips, the rest is easy'.

Merlin looked pained. 'And how do you suppose you're going to teach me _that_?'

Arthur shrugged. 'I haven't figured out that part yet. Give me time. Right now, we've got to look for the Druids' camp. Boy, I hope they haven't put an invisibility shield up. It will make the going that much harder…'

Merlin made sure he fell to the back of the group of horses and cast a glance on the clearing ahead. Suddenly, his eyes glowed yellow, and he whispered a chant he'd practiced the night before. If the Druids were hiding their presence in the forest, his little spell should find them!

But there was nothing but more trees, ferns, fallen logs and shrubbery in front of them, and in the middle, a well-worn track. 'Let's go down there' Arthur said, pointing. 'It looks like it leads somewhere, at least'.

Morgana, meanwhile, was tiptoeing around the catacombs underneath the castle, looking for a way out. 'Blast those damn architects' she muttered. 'Had to get all fancy, didn't they? Why couldn't they just dig a tunnel, and stick a big fat sign saying "This way out" on the wall? Really'.

The dim hallway seemed to get narrower and narrower as she went along, until she came to an archway. Morgana stared this way, then that. 'My kingdom for a White Rabbit to come and show me the way' she said, her voice bouncing off the stone walls. 'Even one of those annoying double-headed sentries in that movie, Labyrinth would be _something_'.

She sighed and sank to her knees. 'Oh… I'm so tired, and thirsty, _and _hungry…'

Suddenly she heard a booming voice. 'Merlin! _Meeeerlin_'.

Morgana frowned. Who would be down here, looking for Arthur's servant? Oh – sorry, _man_-servant? She rolled her eyes. The day that boy's a man's the day I get this fricking chastity belt off! And we all know _that'll_ never happen!

'_Meeerlin_'

'Who _is_ that? Where are you?' Morgana stood up and headed in the direction of the voice.

'I'm over here…. To your left' the voice replied. Even though she hadn't seen a human face for several hours, Morgana wasn't sure she wanted to run into the owner of the voice. Something about it just felt… Hinky. And she usually trusted her own gut feelings.

Nevertheless, her curiosity was getting the better of her. Who, down in the bowels of the castle, would be calling for _Merlin_, of all people?

Turning the corner she found herself in a short passage, at the end of which was a large cavernous… well, cave. She picked up a stick and lit the end with one of the wall torches; then thrust the stick into the darkness.

'_Arrgh_! Watch where you're jabbing that thing!'

Morgana jumped and screeched as a large dragon flapped its wings in front of her. He'd seemed to come out of nowhere. The Lady's jaw dropped. 'So _you're_ Kilgaro, the last dragon! Uther used to boast that he had you holed up down here somewhere, but I thought he was just big-noting himself'.

'No, unfortunately, he was telling the truth' said the dragon, settling himself down on a tall, thin ledge of rock and lowering his reptilian head to look at her more closely.

'And who might you be?'

'I'm the Lady Morgana' she told it. 'Queen Mab had me imprisoned down here, but I managed to escape'. She caught sight of the chain on the dragon's leg. 'Looks like you haven't gotten so lucky'.

'My dear, I haven't gotten lucky in forever and a day' the dragon sighed. 'Most of my kind are gone, and sometimes I wish Uther had just killed me along with them! I've been _so_ lonely down here…'

'I don't want to hear about your sex life… or lack thereof' said Morgana. 'I just want out of here! I don't suppose you know the way'.

'Even if I did, it's not as if I could do anything about it, is there?' Kilgaro pointed out. 'The only thing I've got to look forward to is catching the occasional bat for a snack, and waiting for Merlin to come and feed me Kibble and dead chicken carcasses'.

'Ew' said Morgana, shuddering. 'Your diet is disgusting'.

'So is yours, I imagine' the dragon said, sounding insulted. 'Those macrobiotic diets you women live on! I don't know how someone could subsist on a couple of carrot sticks and a sprig of parsley'.

Morgana raised an eyebrow. 'Macrobiotics? That's _so_, like, last season! I'm on the Atkins Diet, at the moment. No carbs, just pure protein'.

'I've heard that gives you _really_ bad breath' said the dragon. 'Don't stand too close to me, then'.

Morgana put a hand over her mouth and blew into it. 'I haven't got bad breath' she said, indignantly. '_You_ should talk! You're a dragon, for Christ's sake!'

'Whatever. The point is… Actually… I'm not entirely sure there _is _a point'. The dragon did one lap of his prison; then sat back up on his perch. 'Have you seen Merlin? He was supposed to feed me breakfast this morning, but that lazy git hasn't shown up'.

'Well, no' Morgana said, rolling her large green eyes. 'I've been imprisoned down here, like you, remember? And Merlin's not behind that. As a matter of fact, I'd lay bets that Arthur's got everyone out looking for me, as I speak – Merlin included'.

'Terrific' Kilgaro spat. 'Nothing but bats to look forward to, for the time being; at least'.

Morgana narrowed her eyes, thoughtfully. 'But if someone released you, you could go and eat whoever you like – I mean, seek revenge on those who had you imprisoned for so long, right? People like Uther, for instance'.

The dragon's head retracted in surprise. 'I thought you were Uther's ward. Surely you wouldn't want any harm to come to him'.

'I couldn't care less, personally' said Morgana. 'He stood by while my father died, and he's been a tyrant ever since. It wouldn't be a terrible tragedy if something… _happened _to him'.

'Oh! Well, that's interesting' Kilgaro murmured. 'Very interesting, indeed!'

'How about this' Morgana said, suddenly. 'If I can find a spell to release you, you can get your revenge on Uther. You'd really be helping us out. Arthur and I, I mean. We've been conspiring against the old boy since we were teenagers, and he wouldn't let us go to Rave at The Cave'.

'Yes… the king certainly doesn't play well with others, does he?' the dragon said, seeming to consider her offer. 'All right! Merlin's been promising to set me free forever, but it seems I'm more use to the little scab in chains! If _you _can come up with a way to set me free, I promise you, I'll rid Come-a-lot of Uther Pendragon, forever'.

Morgana smiled, evilly. 'Sounds like we have an accord'.

'Shall we shake on it?' the dragon asked.

Morgana stared at him. 'But you don't have any arms' she said; then realised what he was getting at. 'Oh, _gross_! I think I'll pass'.

'Damn' said Kilgaro. 'I thought I was in, there'.

The knights had been riding for most of the morning when Arthur groaned and stopped them with a single command. 'I think it's time we set up camp and had some lunch' he suggested. 'I brought the Fully Loaded cans – anyone think to bring a can opener?'

'I did' said Merlin, pulling his Swiss Army Knife out of his jacket pocket. 'We'll need a fire, though'.

'I'll organise the fire' Lancelot offered.

'I'll set up the tents' Galahad suggested.

'Merlin, you can go and find some firewood' Arthur suggested. 'That'll build up those puny little arms of yours'.

Merlin gasped indignantly, but went to do as he was told. Maybe Arthur had a point. Maybe the reason he couldn't keep a girl's interest for more than a few minutes was because he was so weedy. He made a silent pledge to do some push-ups and sit-ups before hitting the sack this night.

When he got back, three tents had been set up in the clearing, and Lancelot was busy rubbing two sticks together to try and get a fire going. Merlin had an idea. 'Um, Lance' he said, 'I think I heard something! Off in the woods, when I was looking for firewood! It sounded like a girl calling for help'.

'Why didn't you go help her then, Numb-nuts?' Lancelot asked. 'Are you a man or a mouse? It could have been Morgana'.

'I don't think so' said Merlin. 'She sounded younger. And _hotter_'.

'Hotter than Morgana? Wow… I'll be back in a tic' said Lance, grabbing his sword and racing off before Merlin could add anything further about what a fine swordsman he was, and how the girl would probably rather be rescued by a gallant knight wielding a sword than by… well, a humble servant. _Man_-servant, Merlin thought, having to correct _himself_, now! He turned to the carefully thought-out arrangement of sticks, dry leaves and paper surrounded by a circle of small stones, and, checking no one was looking, waved a hand over them, murmuring the word "Incendiare"

In seconds the twigs caught alight, and by the time Lancelot got back, looking mighty aggrieved that he hadn't found Merlin's damsel in distress, there was a merry fire crackling, but it didn't serve to improve his mood, at all! To add insult to injury, Arthur was now standing with his hands out toward the flame, so he didn't dare accuse the king's precious _man_servant of doing sorcery!

'I didn't hear any girl' Lancelot told Merlin. 'You must have forgotten to take your meds, again, Merlin'.

'Oh yeah' said Merlin, slapping himself upside the head. 'Sorry – I must have been hallucinating'.

'Who got the fire going?' Lancelot asked, pouting. 'That was _my _job'.

'I did' said Merlin and Arthur, simultaneously, both wanting to take credit for a job well done. As Gawain, Pellinor and Galahad joined them around the fire, having put up the tents and done a lap around the perimeter of camp to check for any sign of the Druids, Arthur called a general meeting to talk tactics. Then it was Merlin's favourite part of camp – dinner!

As natural light grew dim around them, the knights of the Kind of Round but Slightly Oblong Table grew sleepy, and cold, and gathered around the fire for warmth.

'Who knows a decent ghost story?' asked Arthur. 'And _not _the one about the couple out in the woods, who get carved up by the escapee from the nearby lunatic asylum with the hook for an arm! I've heard that one like, a _zillion _times, and it's not even scary anymore'.

'I know one' said Gawain. 'I hooked up with this bird last week, right, and she looked great when I got her home, but when I woke up the next morning, _blugh_!' he shuddered. 'She looked like she'd fallen out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down'.

'Those must be _some_ beer goggles' giggled Lancelot. 'If you think _that's_ scary…'

'Guys, guys…' Arthur moaned, 'I don't want to hear about the dog you had to gnaw your own arm off to get away from, I'm talking about _real_ ghost stories. The ones that make you have nightmares'.

'But I don't _want_ nightmares' said Galahad. 'I'm already freaking out about what the Druids might be doing to my beautiful… I mean, the Lady Morgana'.

'Oooh' said Gawain. 'So I take it you've managed to solve that whole chastity belt dilemma?'

'No, not yet' admitted Galahad. 'But I won't get to if we don't find her! What are we doing sitting around here like a pack of Girl Scouts on a camping trip, anyway? We've got to find her!' He jumped up and pulled his axe from its case behind his shoulder. 'I'll make them rue the day they stole my sweetheart and tried to use her in their plot to overthrow the king!'

'Steady on there, old chap' laughed Arthur. 'We won't get very far in the dark'.

'But she could be dead already…'

'I doubt it, somehow' said Arthur. 'Remember when Morgana ran away that time? She was shacked up with the Druids, for Christ's sake! They won't hurt her'.

'Then why are we even out here?' wailed Gawain. 'I'm missing the V8 Supercars!'

Arthur sighed. 'We're out here, you nong, to bond as a group and reaffirm our loyalty to Come-a-lot. Think of it as one of those retreats big companies are always sending their employees off to. It's an exercise in roughing it, braving the elements, survival instincts…'

'Who wants another bowl of Fully Loaded Chili?' asked Lancelot, eyeing the last can.

Arthur sighed. 'You can have it. I'm stuffed'. He rubbed his belly, and glanced at Merlin, who was staring into the flames with a vacant look on his face. 'Oh – I've got an idea' said Arthur, suddenly. 'Let's burn off dinner with a tacky training montage, backed by dodgy 80's music'.

Merlin looked up then. 'What about dodgy 80's music?'

Arthur reached for his ghetto blaster and threw in a tape. Suddenly the hills were alive with the intro to Laura Branigan's "I need a hero", and Arthur grabbed Merlin by the wrist. 'Come on, Merlin! It's time you learned to dance like a _man_'.

As they swept across the clearing in a swarthy foxtrot, Merlin couldn't help but ask, 'So if I'm supposed to be learning to dance like a man, why do you keep leading?'

Morgana, meanwhile, had left the dragon to his own devices (whatever they were) and had decided to sneak back to her chambers and get some sleep in her own lovely, soft bed. Her back was aching from the lumpy mattress Mab and her slimy offsider Alphonse or whatever his name was had expected her to lie on. Added to that, her recurring nightmares and premonitions meant that she didn't get much sleep at all, at the best of times. I might go visit Gaius, she thought, and see if he has any of that brilliant sleeping draught he calls Rohypnol around. Yes, that's what I'll do!

As she crept up to Gaius's door, however, it was pretty clear the old man wasn't planning on having visitors. Peering around the door, which had been left slightly ajar, Morgana watched as Gaius mixed something at his lab table, waited til it stopped bubbling, then picked up the bowl in both hands, holding it head-high as he chanted Druidic verse. Oh My freaking God, thought Morgana, he's doing a _spell_! He's a _sorcerer_! She kept watching as the old healer lowered the bowl, dropped in a few more ingredients and stirred them with a wooden spoon, all the while humming "Love is in the Air" with a dopey, dreamy look on his face.

Morgana put a hand over her mouth, trying not to giggle out loud. So the old fool's in love, eh, she thought. I wonder who with? Poor them, whoever they are!

Then a thought occurred to her. If Gaius knew magic, and if Gaius was otherwise occupied with his little crush, then maybe she could find time to sneak into his chambers and look for a spell to release the dragon! Now _that's_ a plan, she thought, feeling more proud of herself than she had when she'd outwitted Queen Mab. But first, for the sleeping draught! She knocked on the door, tentatively.

'Oh, is that you, Merlin? I didn't expect you back until tomorrow' said Gaius, hastily pouring his potion into a decanter and closing his spell book with a loud _thwack_.

'No… It's me'. Morgana emerged from the shadows.

Gaius's eyes widened. 'Lady Morgana? Uther told us you were being held prisoner by the Druids…'

'I _was_ being held prisoner' Morgana admitted. 'But not by the Druids. They wouldn't do that to me. It was Mab, and her scabby little Emo boy-toy, Alawishus, or whatever his name is'.

'Ah… well, that makes sense' Gaius nodded. 'How did you get away?'

'I tripped her' Morgana giggled. 'You should have seen her face, she was furious'.

'Well, I'd stay well shot of her, if I were you' Gaius advised. 'She was in a terrible mood at dinner, and now I know why'.

'She had dinner here?' said Morgana, incredulous. 'Who invited her?'

'Nobody. But then, nobody has to. Mab does what she likes. Always has. That woman's got no idea when she's outworn her welcome, I can tell you'. Gaius held out a bottle filled with red liquid to Morgana. 'Here… I assume this is what you're looking for? A good night's sleep in a bottle. Anyway, Mab's one of those people who get invited to stay for the night and end up camping on your couch for a month and a half, mooching your smokes and drinking all your hard liquor'.

'Sounds like a right old pain in the arse' Morgana mused. 'How do we get rid of her?'

'I suppose when Uther's been knocked off his perch, and magic returns to the realm, she'll shuffle on back to her cave, but until then, I guess we've got no other choice but to endure her' Gaius said, with a sigh of resignation. 'Not to forget the Goddess Eris and her handmaiden'.

Morgana raised an eyebrow. 'She's a goddess? You're kidding! She doesn't act very godly. You'd think she'd be able to just lift Uther up and drop him on his head with the power of her own mind, but she hasn't managed to do squat'.

'That's because Uther doesn't believe in her' Gaius said, quietly. 'She is of the Old Religion, and Uther's God is a Christian God. If Uther believed in her kind as he believes in the Old Testament, and Jesus and Moses and so forth, she'd be able to whip up a tornado and send him to Kansas to live with Dorothy, but he doesn't. So she can't'.

'He believed in Nimueh, though, didn't he?' Morgana asked, enthralled. '_Her_ magic worked on him, once'.

'Once. Not now. And she's not a God, either. Just a powerful sorceress. There's a difference'.

Morgana took the bottle of sleeping draught, and leaning forward, kissed Gaius on the cheek. 'Thank you, Gaius'.

'It was my pleasure, Lady Morgana' said Gaius. 'Now go and hop into bed, before Queen Mab and that sidekick of hers find you in the hallway, and decide to kidnap you all over again!'

Merlin was just sliding into between his blankets when Arthur crawled into their tent on his hands and knees. 'Shit, I'm buggered' he yawned. 'All that riding, and then the dancing, and then Galahad and Gawain's impromptu comedy act…'

'That was comedy?'

'Yeah well, anyway… we should sleep well tonight'. Arthur ripped off his chain mail and threw it into the corner of the tent, followed by his boots. Slithering in between his blankets, Arthur propped his chin on his elbow and stared at Merlin, who was lying on his back, gazing at the roof of the tent as if he could see through it to the stars. The prince didn't know why he kept thinking about Merlin all the time; he just did. It had been happening all day. And even worse, he kept sneaking glances at the bloke, when he thought no one was watching. A couple of times Merlin had almost caught him, but he'd looked away just in time. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he get his skinny manservant out of his head? Arthur tried to turn away, but couldn't. He was transfixed by the big blue eyes (which were dark inside the tent); the high cheekbones; the full, shapely lips…

'Merlin?'

'Yes?' murmured Merlin, who was already half asleep.

'Remember how I told you I'd teach you how to kiss?'

'Huh?'

Before his servant could utter another word, Arthur was on him - lips locked against Merlin's, hands in his dark hair. When he finally had to come up for air, Merlin gasped in horror. 'Arthur… _what_ are you doing?'

'Teaching you how to kiss! Girls do it with their friends all the time. Gwen told me that's how she learned'.

'Well, we're _not _girls, and you're never going to do that to me again!' Merlin threw both arms across his face. 'Ever!'

'Oh… you can't say it was _that_ bad' said Arthur, winking at him. 'Can you? I mean… I could have _sworn_ you started kissing me back, for a second, there'.

'I did _not_! I was trying to move my mouth away from yours!' Merlin protested.

'It didn't feel like that to me' said Arthur, running a hand down the front of Merlin's shirt. Merlin pushed his hand away, only to have it back where it started!

'Arthur! If I have to sleep outside, I will!' whispered Merlin, furiously.

'Oh, you don't have to do that' said Arthur, moving over so that his body was up close and personal with Merlin's. 'I know its cold, but we can use our bodies to keep each other…'

Before he'd finished that sentence, Merlin was up and out in a flash, dragging his blanket behind him. Arthur pouted and sank back down on his side of the tent, tense and unfulfilled. If that was the way Merlin wanted it, he could sleep out there in the cold! But Arthur wasn't put off completely. Oh no. Merlin, he thought, I'm going to get me some of that servant-boy action, if it's the last thing I do! Turning over and closing his eyes, he groaned aloud. _What am I thinking_?

Back at the castle, Gaius made sure Morgana was safely out of sight before he lifted a finely crafted crossbow from under his lab table, and headed down to his favourite dungeon. Pulling the cord to turn on the light, he smiled at a life-sized cut out of his secret crush on the wall. 'Now' he said to the empty room, 'Time for some target practice'.

Next on the Misadventures of Merlin…

Will Gaius cure the love spell before Arthur makes Merlin his bitch?

Will Morgana find a way to release the dragon?

And who is the famous guest invited to Uther's fiftieth birthday brunch?


	6. Chapter 6

**Episode 6 –**** The Lady in the Lake**

Gwen was in her element having Morgana back to wait on, but she still couldn't get Arthur's strange behaviour of the morning before out of her head. 'He was totally ignoring me, My Lady' she told her boss. 'That just isn't like him. He's normally a real flirt – always trying to cop a feel – but yesterday, it was like… nothing. It was really weird! Do you think he's tired of me, already?'

'I doubt that, Gwen' Morgana said, trying to reassure her handmaiden. 'You probably just caught the bloke in one of the four annual minutes where he's honestly too preoccupied to think about sex. That's all'.

'Four minutes a _year_? Really?'

'Yep' replied Morgana. 'Every other minute, they're like horny little toads, running about, just trying to get their end in, any way they can'.

'Speaking of horny little toads; how's that servant of Mab's? He tried to grab my arse after dinner last night! And he's got real strong hands, too' Gwen said, rubbing her butt. 'Honestly, I wish someone would tell that woman she's persona non grata around here, now that everyone knows it was her that held you hostage! Why she keeps hanging around when everyone hates her guts is beyond me'.

'That's just what Mab does. Gaius told me' Morgana said. 'She's like the world's worst houseguest. Never knows when to leave, and would bum your last cigarette'.

'And you can't stop her, either, because she can turn you into a coat rack, if she feels like it'. Gwen added. 'It's such a pity she's like, the one remaining pure-blood representative of the Old Religion. With her sort running around in the old days, it's any wonder Uther doesn't like magic'.

'Speaking of Uther, it's his birthday tomorrow' Morgana reminded her. 'I think we should do something, you know, _big_, to prove to him that we're not all trying to kill him. He's been rather depressed lately, with all these attempts at trying to pull his throne out from under him. I think we should give him a party'.

'Wow' said Gwen, 'Haven't you changed your tune'.

'Not really' Morgana said, shaking her head. 'I still believe he's being unreasonable when it comes to magic, but he _is_ my guardian, and he's brought me up since I was ten years old. And barring the whole megalomaniacal dictator bit, he's actually been like a father to me'.

'Fair enough' said Gwen. 'I'll talk to Arthur about it. Maybe we could throw him a surprise party, or something?'

'Brunch!' said Morgana, excitedly. 'We could have one of those ritzy brunches, like they're always having on Gossip Girl! Oh, I've _always_ wanted to go to one of those'.

'I don't know' Gwen said, turning up her nose. 'The idea of dressing up for breakfast might not appeal to a lot of people who like to sleep in on Sundays'.

'It's Brunch, Gwen! Sort of like elevenses, but more swanky! Oh, I'm going to have such a _ball _organising this! Who do you think I should invite for entertainment?'

'Oh, Uther rather likes that blonde bird with the really thick American accent – I forget her name. She sucks, but I think he wants to bang her, so I'm pretty sure he'd be chuffed if she showed up' Gwen suggested. 'Either that or that fat bloke who sings opera, but I'd lay odds he'd prefer the slapper, instead'.

'Which slapper is that? Britney Spears, Kesha or Christina Aguilera?'

'Kesha! That's the one' Gwen said. 'She puts a money sign where the S should be. Silly bint'.

'This is going to be great' beamed Morgana. 'Uther's going to have the best fiftieth birthday brunch, ever!'

And he's going to get the surprise of his life afterward, too, she thought to herself. If I manage to free Kilgaro; we'll be celebrating the king's birthday _and_ death within twenty-four hours!

When the boys rode back into town that morning, Merlin broke off from the main riding group and headed straight home. Shaken and totally freaked out, he thought if he spent another minute in Arthur's company he'd regurgitate his breakfast! The scene in their tent last night was bad enough, but then Arthur had decided to join him at the lake when Merlin went to wash up, and had suggested that the both of them skinny-dip! It was too much for poor Merlin, who used to shower in his underwear after PE at school!

'Gaius' he blurted, as he made it to the safety of his chambers, 'Arthur's acting really weird! I think someone's put a spell on him! He keeps making these lewd suggestions to me – and last night he tried to _kiss_ me in our tent! I really think magic's involved, or else my Gaydar has been _way_ off, because I'd never have picked _him _for a queer'.

Gaius then did the one thing Merlin never would have expected – he shook with laughter! 'Oh… Oh I'm sorry' he said, wiping his eyes minutes later. 'It's just… it's just… so _funny_'.

'It's _not_ funny, it's bloody awkward! How am I supposed to follow my destiny when my destiny wants to follow _me_, just to check out my rear view? It's sick, I tell you! Please, _do_ something!'

'Well, if Arthur's truly gay, there's not really much I _can_ do' Gaius said, shrugging. 'But if, on the other hand, he's under a spell…'

'Is there any way you can find out?'

'Yes' said Gaius, laying a hand on Merlin's shoulder as the boy sank into a chair. 'I can talk to him. Don't you worry your pretty… uh… your head about it, my boy. I'll fix this'.

Merlin watched Gaius leave the room, then threw his head back and groaned. He hadn't missed Gaius's slip of the tongue. And all he could think was, _not Gaius, too_!

Gwen threw herself at Arthur the moment he walked into his chambers. 'Oh – steady on' he said, catching her by the arms. 'I've been riding all morning! I really need a rest'.

Gwen's face fell. 'But… didn't you miss me?'

'Of course' he said, and kissed her on the forehead, dismissively. 'How could I not miss my little Cinnamon Buns?'

Gwen giggled, feeling a little bit better. If he was using his private nickname for her, he must still be thinking about her, _that _way!

'But right now, all I want to do is collapse' Arthur told her. Then he frowned. 'Wow, that's weird! You didn't even ask if we found Morgana'.

'That's because she's back' said Gwen, grinning. 'It wasn't the Druids at all – it was Queen Mab who had her locked up in one of the cells underneath the castle! But she managed to escape, and now she's busy organising Uther's fiftieth birthday. By the way, she wants to talk to you about that…'

Arthur's jaw dropped. 'She's back? She's been here the entire time?'

'Yeah. Why?'

'Bloody hell! I've just spent the last twenty-four hours looking for Her bloody Highness out in the woods, and she's been here all along! Way to send someone to find us and let us know'.

Gwen bit her lip. 'Well… it was very late when she turned up – we figured you'd have camp all set up and everything! Didn't you boys have a good time, roughing it?'

'Well, I wouldn't call what we did "roughing it" exactly' said Arthur, uncomfortably. 'But we _did _do some quality bonding! Just ask Merlin'.

Gwen raised an eyebrow. 'Why? What happened to Merlin? You boys weren't teasing him, were you? You know you can be a real bully sometimes, Arthur Pendragon! Just because you _can_ give atomic wedgies, doesn't mean you should'.

'No' said Arthur, unable to hide a grin. 'No wedgies. I promise'.

'Then what?' Gwen asked, balling her hand into a fist and putting it up under Arthur's nose. 'You _know_ how protective I am of Merlin! He's like, the brother I never had, so if you blokes have been giving him a hard time…'

'We haven't. I promise. I taught him to dance, that's all' Arthur laughed. 'That boy has two left feet and absolutely _no_ rhythm, by the way'.

Gwen relaxed her fist. 'As long as that's all it was! If I find out later you did anything worse, like make him strip and steal his clothes, or use him for target practice…'

Arthur grinned, salaciously. 'You're gonna do what to me?'

Gwen's face lit up. This was more like it! She narrowed her eyes. 'Wouldn't _you_ like to know?'

Morgana was busy choosing between two designs for the invitations when Arthur caught up with her in the dining hall. 'Which one is better?' she asked him, holding up the samples. Arthur gave them a quick glance then pointed at the one with the Pendragon crest at the top. 'So, how are the Druids?' he asked.

Morgana stopped in her tracks. 'Oh… you know about that'.

'Yes… I know you weren't with the Druids at all. That it was Mab who was holding you hostage! What _I_ can't figure out is how you got past that witch'.

'I didn't use magic, if that's what you're inferring. Magic isn't allowed. Uther might think of me as a daughter, but he'd have me strung up if he knew about my… gifts'.

'And that's why I haven't told him' Arthur reminded her. 'We might not see eye to eye on a lot of things…'

'Plus I think you're a total prat' Morgana reminded him

'There is that. But regardless, you're practically family, so it's not like I'm going to go running to dob you in! Speaking of which… Gwen said you were throwing some kind of party for the old man. What's this about?'

'Well… it's all but done. I just need to write out these invitations and have someone deliver them door to door by this evening! It's brunch, so I need to know numbers by about nine tonight…'

Arthur gave her a doubting look. 'What's this really about, Morgana?'

'Nothing! I just thought Father could do with a party in his honour, to prove to him that we still care about him. I'm even inviting one of his favourite singers! I've heard she's in the country, and she loves big, manly, scarred, battle-worn men in chain mail, so the old boy might even get lucky'.

'That would be a _great_ birthday present' Arthur conceded. 'Okay… _I'll_ deliver the invites if you want'.

'Oh, thank you, Arthur! That would be great! A load off _my_ mind, anyway! I've still got to finalise the menu with the caterers, get the servants polishing the silverware…'

'Merlin could do that'

'But I've _still_ got to write out these darn things! Oh, and we're going to need some valets to park the carriages…'

'Morgana, Morgana…' Arthur sighed. 'Calm down. You'll give yourself a stroke'.

'I'm trying to' Morgana said. 'Hey – maybe Gwen could help with these invites? She's got great penmanship! Could you ask her? I've got to run; I've got _sooo _much to do…' She grabbed her cloak and took off before Arthur could say another word. Oh yes, she thought. I've got bigger fish to fry. A small matter of finding a spell to release Kilgaro on the unsuspecting king on his birthday! With that on top of everything else…Why oh _why_ don't I learn to delegate?

Meanwhile, Merlin was standing at the opening to Kilgaro's cave. 'It's really making me sick' he told the dragon. 'First Arthur, now Gaius! You should have seen the way he looked at me! I feel like a piece of steak on show at the butcher's'.

'Oh, don't talk to me about steak' said the dragon. 'I've been eating bats for the past two days because you were off on your little camping lark! Where's my food?'

'Here' sighed Merlin, and threw the dragon a freshly killed and plucked chicken from the market. Kilgaro gobbled it up with relish, and licked his non-existent lips. 'Aagh – now that's hit the spot' he said. 'So… what exactly do you want me to do about all this?'

'I'm sorry' said Merlin. 'Nothing really… I'm just venting. I just wish there was a way to… I don't know… _change_ myself somehow. Make myself… less attractive to pervy old men – and Arthur! I'm getting really sick of walking with my back against the wall whenever he passes me in the hallway'.

'There _is_ a way' the dragon said, suddenly. 'But if Camilla Everhart performs magic in the realm of Come-a-lot, she's likely to be executed! So you'll have to go to the source of her magic'.

'Which is?'

'The Lady in the Lake. There's a rumour she used to be Nimueh before her sister Mab drowned her. But she's of the Old Religion, and her magic is very powerful'.

'Where is this lake?'

'In the fields beyond the White Mountains – but beware, Merlin! She will want something in return'.

'Like what?'

'How should I know? I just know she'll want something in return' snapped Kilgaro. 'It's kind of a thing with these Wiccan chicks'. He yawned. 'Well, now my stomach's full, I'm getting sleepy. Off with you now, boy! You better make haste, if you're going to get to the Lake and back before the celebrations'.

'Ah yes' said Merlin, rolling his eyes. 'Uther's fiftieth birthday brunch. Terrific'.

'Yes' said Kilgaro with a sly smile. 'Terrific'.

Morgana found sneaking into Gaius's quarters easier than she'd imagined. The old boy was nowhere to be found. Probably off in his dungeon, torturing some poor soul with his rotten vegetables, she thought. I wonder what he does with them, exactly? Although I'm not sure I _want_ to know…

She wasn't prepared, however, for just how many old volumes of potion books and non-magic texts Gaius had strewn about the place. 'Damn it' she said aloud. 'How am I supposed to find a spell when I can't even find a spell _book_?' She knew that the old boy would have to hide his magical texts really well, so that in the event Uther's guards did a sweep of the city, they wouldn't be found, but this was ridiculous! Morgana searched every nook and cranny of the main room; every cupboard, spare inch of bench space and under every item of clothing on the floor (most of them being Merlin's) – but no cigar. She was seconds from giving up when all of a sudden, a loud creak sounded from the floorboards. She looked down and saw that the board under her foot was raised slightly.

'Hallelujah' she said, to no one in particular. 'I think I've found it'.

But leaving the room with the enormous book bound with string that had been stashed under the floor was going to be more difficult than entering without. She'd have to find the right spell first and copy it. But she couldn't count on Gaius or Merlin walking in on her and catching her in the act. She bit her lip. This was proving to be a lot more work than she'd bargained for. And she still had all that preparation to do, before Uther's brunch tomorrow. What was she going to do?

Gaius found Arthur and Gwen writing out invitations in the prince's chambers. 'Well – this is not exactly what I expected to find you two doing' he said. 'Can I speak to you in private, Sire?'

Arthur put down his quill and stretched out his hand. 'Oh, thank god for that! Do you know Morgana's invited _half the kingdom_ to this thing? We'll never get them all written out in time to deliver them, _and_ wait for everyone to RSVP! The girl's gone obsessive-compulsive with this whole brunch thing'.

'She's just trying to show the king her allegiance' said Gwen. 'I think it's kind of sweet. Although, she _did_ mention the words "Kesha" and "classy do" in the same sentence; which, frankly, worries me'. She stood up and put her quill back in its ink pot. 'I'll leave you two alone, shall I?'

'Thank you, Guinevere' said Gaius, gravely. 'It's really quite a serious matter I have to speak to the prince about'.

'Uh-huh' said Gwen. 'Say no more. I'm out of here'.

As soon as Gwen was gone, Arthur turned to the court's physician. 'What is this about, Gaius? Is Father sick?'

'No… it's nothing to do with the king' Gaius replied. 'It's about you, Arthur'.

'Me? What about me? I'm fine. Aren't I?'

'That remains to be seen' said the old healer. 'Can I check your shoulder wound? Merlin told me you were acting rather… strangely while you were out looking for Morgana'.

'Oh he did, did he?' Arthur fumed. 'I don't remember anything like that! He's lying to you, Gaius! Can't you tell when Merlin's lying? He gets all flushed and sweaty, and his eyes glaze over, and he gets this funny little tic in his left eyelid…'

'That's rather an elaborate description, don't you think?' Gaius pointed out. 'You've been paying extra attention to Merlin, by the sounds of things'.

'No I haven't!' cried Arthur, in protest.

'Take off your shirt'

'Why?'

'So I can check your wound, you silly boy!'

Arthur sighed and pulled his canvas shirt over his head. 'It's been itching like a _bitch_' he complained. 'Is that normal?'

'Of course it is. It's healing' said Gaius, unravelling the bandage around Arthur's shoulder. 'And it looks fine. Which means…'

'_I'm_ fine' Arthur grumbled. 'I told you so'.

'Are you sure about that?' asked Gaius.

'Yes'.

'So… you'd normally go around kissing Merlin and trying to cuddle up to him in the middle of the night, then?'

Arthur knew the jig was up. 'Oh… all right. I admit, I _have _been feeling kind of weird, the last couple of days. Thinking things…. Feeling things I normally wouldn't. I mean, Merlin's an _idiot_…'

'_And _not a girl' Gaius pointed out. 'He's starting to think you're gay'.

'I'm not gay!'

'Then you've had a spell put on you' said Gaius. 'I'll have to work out which one exactly, and who's responsible, but I think I can rustle up a potion to help block the effects, in the meantime'.

Arthur clenched his jaw. 'Oh, now _that_ makes sense! But I have no idea who would do something like that to me! The Goddess Eris was a _little_ miffed that I dumped her for Gwen, but not enough to…' he stopped short. 'Wait a minute! I don't think the spell was meant for me at all'.

'What do you mean?'

'Well – when I was shot with the arrow, it was because I jumped in front of Merlin. The arrow was meant for him! The arrow was probably dipped in the potion that caused this spell. Which means that someone wanted to put the love whammy on Merlin! But why… and who?'

'I don't think that matters' said Gaius, quickly. 'There are so many sorcerers mincing about the castle these days, it could be anybody. What matters is I find you an antidote. In the meantime, try to stay away from Merlin, will you? You're really starting to freak him out'.

'Will do' Arthur replied. 'He's not the only one getting freaked out, let me tell you'.

Merlin arrived at the wide, shimmering lake at around an hour before dinnertime. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, and made the water in the lake turn all sorts of pretty colours, like orange, purple and pink. As he was staring at the beauty of the scene, the surface of the water began to ripple, and something started to rise from the deep. Merlin watched as one of the most beautiful beings he'd ever set eyes on rose until she looked as if she was standing on water. She smiled at him and said, 'You'll catch flies'.

'Huh?'

'Your jaw is hanging open'.

'Oh… Sorry! Merlin said, flushing with embarrassment. He couldn't believe he'd been ogling her so obviously, but who could help it? Apart from the Goddess Eris, and maybe Morgana, he'd never been in the presence of such a luminous beauty. Her hair was long and dark with auburn streaks, and her eyes were big and brown like a fawn's. Her skin was like cream. She wore a long, shimmering dress that made her look like a mermaid. Merlin had to stop and reconstruct his thoughts before he could get to why he had arrived here in the first place, seeking her help.

She laughed. 'It's okay. I don't mind. I don't get many visitors, so it's not as if I can afford to piss anyone off, can I? Stare all you like'.

'I – I've actually come to ask your help' Merlin stammered. 'My name is Merlin'.

'I know who you are' the girl said. 'My name is… or rather, _was_, Nimueh'.

'Yes. Gaius told me what happened to you. You must hate Mab's guts'.

'Life is far too short to spend it hating people, Merlin' Nimueh advised him. 'But yes, I don't exactly see eye to eye with my sister anymore. Especially not after the fugly slut drowned me and forced my ghost to haunt this place for all eternity'.

'I've met Mab' said Merlin. 'It's hard to believe you guys are related'.

'That's what everyone says' Nimueh laughed, humourlessly. 'I look like Mum; she looks like Dad. Luckily for him, that face works much better on a man. Alas, there is one flaw to my beauty'.

'There is?'

'Dishpan hands' said Nimueh, holding up mitts that looked like giant prunes. 'They're so waterlogged, my dream of being a hand model is totally ruined. Yet another thing to hate Mab for'. She sighed, and hid her ugly, misshapen hands behind her back again.

'Yes well… I kind of wish Arthur would hate _me_ again. At least it would be marginally easier for me to take, than having to put up with him hitting on me every time I walk in the room'. Merlin complained. 'He doesn't even ask me to polish his armour anymore. Unless he's wearing it, at the time!'

'Wait a minute' said Nimueh, chuckling. 'You're telling me that Arthur Pendragon has been putting the hard word on you? Haha… Now _that_ would be worth seeing! He's such a…'

'Prat?'

'I was going to say macho homophobe, but yeah, prat will do just as well!'

'How do you know him?'

'Oh, I've had my dealings with the Pendragon clan. Just as I've met your friend, Gaius. And you telling me _he_ has the hots for you doesn't surprise me one bit. Gaius has always had a thing for pretty boys like you'.

'And that's exactly why I've got to change my look' Merlin pleaded. 'Please… can you help me?'

'Okay' said Nimueh. 'But nothing too severe. Maybe some extra lines around the eyes, and maybe I could make your ears stick out more…'

'_More?_!'

'…And you can have a _bit _of a beard, but not too much! You don't want Uther to realise magic's responsible, because participating in sorcery carries the same punishment as practicing it' Nimueh reminded him. 'Unless you want to lose your head, you don't want a major change. Have you seen Uther since you got back from your camping trip?'

Merlin frowned. 'No… but how do you know about our camping trip?'

Nimueh threw her head back and laughed; a sound that was like heaven to Merlin's ears. 'I know more than you can ever imagine, Merlin' she told him. 'Go home, and by the time you reach the gates of Come-a-lot, you will have what you wished for'.

'Thank you, My Lady' Merlin gushed. 'Thank you, _so_ much'.

Gaius took the bubbling mixture off the heat and poured it into the dry ingredients in his mortar and pestle. If this antidote worked, Arthur would no longer be at the mercy of that love spell. It would be a huge relief to the prince, but it would be an even bigger relief to Gaius, who didn't need the younger, better-looking competition for Merlin's affections!

As soon as the antidote was mixed and allowed to cool, Gaius took it to Arthur, who was staring out the window in his chambers, into the distance. 'Merlin didn't come home tonight' he said. 'I'm worried'.

'I'm sure he's fine' said Gaius. 'Maybe he had a date? Here, take this'.

Arthur turned around and stared at the potion in the mug. 'I'm not drinking that! It looks _disgusting_'.

'But you asked me for an antidote to the spell… Here it is' Gaius said, pushing the mug at Arthur's chest. 'Just pinch your nose, and drink it up'.

'Oh fine, whatever' sighed Arthur, and took a long swig of the antidote. Then he turned all kinds of bright colours, and spat it back out! 'Christ! What's in that?'

'You're probably better off not knowing' Gaius replied. 'Herbs, mostly'.

'It's revolting'.

'Still, you'd better finish it, or Lord knows how long you'll be mooning over your servant'.

'_Man_-servant'

'Did you call me?'

Arthur and Gaius turned toward the door, simultaneously. Gaius blinked. 'Merlin… _what have you done?'_

'Have you seen Merlin?' giggled Gwen the next morning, as she was preparing for Uther's fiftieth birthday brunch. 'I don't know what kind of beauty products he's using – or not using – but he looks like Methusulah! Beard down to here, and so many wrinkles, he'd give a Sharpei a run for its money!'

'Oh dear' said Morgana. 'I wonder if it's a curse?'

'Nah! Who hates Merlin enough to curse him?' asked Gwen. 'I bet it's an attempt to get Gaius off his back. You _do_ know Gaius has had the hots for Merlin, like, forever? I do think he's gone a teensy bit overboard, though'.

'Still, if Uther suspects magic's involved…'

'He'll have Merlin up on the gallows as soon as look at him. I know. I'll go and see if I can find Camilla Everhart. She might be able to undo the spell. Or at least, tone it down'.

'Don't be late for brunch, will you?' Morgana called after her. As soon as Gwen was gone, Morgana slid a pair of bolt cutters out from her long purple gown and said a quick chant over them. Hiding them again, she went to the door, looked both ways, then headed downstairs to the dragon's lair.

'That looks like the work of my dear sister' said Queen Mab, rolling her eyes as she flicked the end of her cigarette out the window. As ever, Alfie was taking his time getting ready for the king's special brunch, while she was already dressed and good to go. She didn't know why it took him half an hour just to choose the right cravat to go with his many fancy waistcoat and trouser suits, but it did. It wasn't as if anyone actually took any notice of him, except when he applied his squirrel grip to their nether regions!

'What does?'

'That out there. I'm pretty sure it's Arthur's manservant, Merlin. He looks like he's aged about 60 years overnight!'

Alfie peered out the window at the courtyard. 'Wow! Why would anyone do that to themselves?'

'I don't think that was his intention' Mab replied, dryly. 'More like, he just wanted to grow a distinguished, Errol Flynn moustache and goatee for the brunch, and my silly-as-a-wheel sister fucked up the spell. Ever since I drowned the wench, none of her spells or enchantments seem to work out right. Must be all that water to the brain'.

Alfie snorted. 'Gee, do you think?'

'I should really fix the situation' said Mab. 'That poor boy doesn't deserve to die, and that's just what's going to happen if Uther sees him! He's got magic written all over him'.

'But your Excellence… Remember what happened last time you tried to undo one of your sister's spells? It went horribly wrong' Alfie reminded her. 'Shouldn't we leave it to someone like Camilla Everhart? After all, that's what she does. That's _all_ she does'.

'Oh, all right! Damn it, you're always spoiling my fun' said Mab, crossly.

Gwen hurried Camilla out to the courtyard, away from where Uther was sure to be having his breakfast and reading the morning paper, and over to Merlin. 'Can you do something?' she pleaded. 'He can't look like this! King Uther will kill him'.

'Wow' said Camilla, looking Merlin up and down. 'This is a fair bit trickier than the glamour I used to rid you of your scar, but… here goes'. She waved both arms at Merlin, and to the horror of both women, the young manservant disappeared completely, and in his place stood a duck!

'He's a handsome duck' Camilla said, sheepishly, but seeing the look on Gwen's face, waved her arms again. Thankfully, Merlin reappeared, but this time with two pairs of hands!

'Oh this is no good' sighed Gwen. 'Okay, so he'll be _twice_ as fast at his chores, but it's still obviously magic at work, here!'

'Damn' Merlin said, glancing either way at his extra limbs. 'This feels _really_ weird. But cool'.

Camilla narrowed her eyes, trying to conjure up the correct enchantment in her mind; then waved her arms, yet again. Finally, Merlin as Gwen knew him best stood in front of them both, young, wrinkle-free, but with about five days' growth of reddish brown hair on his chin, and over his top lip.

'Hm' said Gwen. 'Nah… It doesn't suit him. But it's still better than the duck. And _miles_ better than the old man'.

Merlin put a hand up and felt the fuzz at his chin. 'Wow' he breathed. 'I've got facial hair! This is _so_ cool! I've got a beard!'

Gwen giggled. 'I don't know if I'd go that far. I'd call it a goatee, maybe?'

'Nah' Camilla decided. 'Designer stubble'.

'I'm going to find a mirror' said Merlin, excitedly. 'Thanks, Camilla!' He leapt forward and gave her a huge kiss on the lips; then took off for his chambers.

Gwen had to give Camilla a nudge to remind her to continue breathing.

'Wow' the pixie-like girl said, 'If I go to the gallows now, at least it will have been worth it'.

'So you still like him?' Gwen laughed.

'Yeah' said Camilla. 'He can't dance, but he can sure as hell kiss!'

Morgana was getting frustrated. Why weren't the enchanted bolt-cutters getting through the chain around the dragon's leg? Kilgaro tapped his foot impatiently.

'All right, all right, I'm going as fast as I can' grumbled Morgana. 'But it seems these bolt-cutters aren't going to do the job'.

The dragon let out a frustrated yawp, making Morgana jump out of her skin.

'I know you're eager to get out of here, but _jeez_!' she said. 'I'm doing the best I can'.

'Well your best isn't good enough' said the dragon. 'I have an idea I know exactly what will cut through these chains, but you're going to have a helluva time getting hold of it'.

Morgana looked up at him. 'Whatever are you talking about?'

'Excalibur' the dragon said. 'Arthur's sword. Only a weapon that has been burnished in a dragon's breath can break chains like these. I'm just sorry I didn't think of it earlier'.

'So am I' said Morgana, pouting. 'I've got a brunch to put on, guests to greet, and a king to kill. What did _you_ have planned for this morning?'

'That's enough of that, Missy' said the dragon; raising what passed for an eyebrow on his scaly face. 'I heard you were feisty but I didn't realise you had such a twisted sense of humour. I like you'.

'Oh, well, that's good to know' said Morgana. 'So you'll spare me when it comes time to escape and wreak vengeance on Come-a-lot?'

'It depends on my mood at the time, but yes, I think I can promise you that' Kilgaro said, nodding. 'You _and _Arthur. It _is_ his destiny to rule these lands, after all'.

'And you'll save Gwen, Merlin and the Knights of the Kind of Round but Slightly Oblong Table? Oh, and Gaius?'

'So you pretty much just want Uther dead, then?'

Morgana paused for a second; then brightened. 'Oh… and if you can manage it, Queen Mab; as well. That chick is getting on everyone's nerves'.

'Uther; Queen Mab. Check. How about you go and find that sword, now?'

Morgana bit her lip, and looked at her watch. 'Does it have to be _now_? My VIP guest will be arriving any minute'.

'NOW!' roared Kilgaro, his patience well and truly worn thin.

'Okay, okay…' said Morgana, ducking in case the dragon decided to get a little too hot-headed. 'Gee, I wonder if he means _now_?'

'That's enough smart-talk from you, Missy' said the dragon, chuckling to himself.

'Where the hell is Morgana?' Arthur wanted to know. 'She's supposed to show the caterers where to set up the banquet table, and oversee the decorations! How are we supposed to know whether it's two gold balloons to one red; or vice versa?'

'I think you can work it out' Gwen laughed. 'The streamers are red, so it might be an idea not to overdo the red motif. I'd say two gold to one red'.

'You're brilliant' said Arthur, giving his girlfriend a peck on the cheek. 'I'm going to help the others set up'.

Gwen turned toward the huge dining room and bit her lip. Where _was _Morgana? If she buggered up the arrangements for the brunch, her Lady would never forgive her. Actually, that was a slight exaggeration, but it _would_ take a week of major sucking up and Gwen hated brown-nosing! Spotting Eris in another one of her many purple gowns, she called the Goddess over. 'Have you seen Lady Morgana this morning?'

'Um… No' said Eris, refusing to meet Gwen's eyes. 'I've been… ahem… busy'.

'_Oookay'_ said Gwen, giving Eris a funny look. 'Well, I know it's not Arthur, because he spent all night with me, so who have you been getting busy with?'

'Sex, sex, sex… that's all you people think about' said Eris, stiffly. 'I've actually got bigger fish to fry! Oh yes… I've discovered a way to knock Uther off his throne, once and for all! And when I do, guess who's going to take his place?'

'Arthur?'

'No, you silly bint! Me!' said Eris, her lavender eyes flashing. 'It's about time this dump had a woman running things, instead of a man! And maybe then I'll get my powers back, because everyone will be able to believe in magic again…'

'You can't take the throne!' cried Gwen. 'It's Arthur's. It's been his since birth!'

'Yes, well… I knew you'd say that' said Eris. 'But I'm afraid you can't stop me. You see, I have a contingency plan. And it involves ridding Come-a-lot of not just the king, but his arrogant, self-serving twit of a son'.

Gwen's mouth dropped open. 'You touch a hair on Arthur's head, and I'll… I'll…'

'You'll do what?' Eris crossed her arms over her chest. 'Go on, what will you do to me? You're just Lady Morgana's servant. You don't have any power of your own'.

Gwen stood, seething, speechless. Until she heard a voice behind her, and turned to see Merlin standing at the door, talking to none other than Morgana's VIP guest, the singer, Ke$ha! Wanting to get Merlin alone so she could warn him about Eris's plans for Arthur and his old man, she turned to the Goddess and said, 'Look – I'll say nothing about your plan to kill Uther if you leave Arthur out of it, and help me out, here. Morgana's done a disappearing act, and this is her show. That's Ke$ha, over there, talking to Merlin. Can you go and keep her busy while Merlin and I get everything set up? She's Uther's favourite recording artist, so it's the _least_ you could do for him, if you're going to kill him, later'.

Eris seemed to consider this; then nodded, rolling her eyes, dramatically.

'Okay. Whatever. I'll play sitter to the rock star who looks like a baby prostitute as long as you don't mention a _word _of what I said, to either Uther or Arthur'.

'Thank you' said Gwen, relieved. She headed over to Ke$ha and Merlin, with Eris in tow. The blonde pop princess was hanging all over Arthur's cute manservant like a cheap suit. Stroking his newly minted goatee, she winked and said, 'I like your beard'.

'See' said Merlin, to Gwen and Eris in a superior tone, '_She _thinks it's a beard'.

'It's a bloody goatee, you silly nerd, and barely that' blurted Eris. Taking a shocked looking Ke$ha by the arm, the goddess peeled her off Merlin like a starfish from a rock, and lead her away. 'I'm Eris, the Goddess of Chaos, and you're going to listen to me, right? First of all, there will be NO TIC BLOODY TOC! I'm sick to death of that bloody song! You so much as _hum_ it 'n' I'll smash yer face in…'

Coming up on the Misadventures of Merlin…

Uther's Birthday Banquet Bash;

Eris's plan goes haywire and…

Gaius finally has Merlin where he wants him!


	7. Chapter 7

**Episode 7 –**** A Right Royal Cock-up**

Uther strolled out of his chambers on the morning of his fiftieth birthday feeling rather proud of himself. Come-a-lot had just been awarded the cleanest kingdom in the Keep Britain Beautiful campaign, his son was about to turn twenty-one and officially receive the keys to the city; as well as the free patronage of his choice of Gentleman's Clubs for his coming-of-age party (something his old man was looking forward to even more than Arthur himself); _and_ Uther had received a bottle of the finest Glenfiddich from his cousin, the Duke of Erinsborough, Harold Bishop, special delivery that morning. He was planning to pour himself a nip, run a bath (well, have one of his many servants run the bath) and enjoy a nice, quiet soak, while reminiscing on the last twenty years of his magic-free reign, when…

….He heard a cacophony coming from downstairs that sounded vaguely like the town brass band tuning up. 'Oh bloody hell' he muttered. 'What the…'

Wrapping his silk robe around him, the king ventured out his chamber door, and glanced out over the mezzanine floor at the scene in the large dining hall below. There appeared to be a lot going on for half past nine in the morning on his birthday, the one day when he ordered peace in the castle or else heads would roll. People were setting up banquet tables, a stage area with a live band, and place settings for at least fifty guests at the giant dining table. A large, many tiered cake was rolled out and placed near the head of the table, and finally, a long, wide, royal banner in red and gold was unfurled over the stage, by a couple of his henchmen perched at the very tops of the castle's tallest ladders, and as he read the banner, Uther's rage at being disturbed from his prior plans just melted away.

"Happy 50th Birthday to our King" it said.

Ever so quietly, Uther slipped back into his chambers for a quick shower, forgetting all about his proposed soak. It wasn't often his constituents got together to throw him a party, and even less often did they make it a _surprise_ party. Uther wasn't normally one for surprises, but this was different. If he was very lucky, he might even score some presents!

Gwen was ever so glad to see Morgana show up with just five minutes until the first guest was supposed to rock up. 'Where have you been?' she asked her Lady, in a hissed whisper. 'I've been trying to get everything sorted for the past hour, so if you don't like the way something's done, I'm afraid you'll just have to suck it up, Princess'.

'No, everything looks fine' said Morgana, looking distracted. 'Where's Arthur?'

'Bossing around the valets – why?'

'Oh! Er, no reason' said the King's ward, glancing toward the side door, which led out to the stables and armoury.

Gwen's mouth dropped open. 'I know! You've got a secret date, haven't you, you dirty tart! Who is it, no, let me guess… Galahad? Is he finally going to pop that lock on your chastity belt?'

Morgana blushed. 'Gwen! Do not speak of such things!' then realised her handmaiden had just given her the perfect alibi. If I can just go and grab Excalibur, get past the red carpet outside without being noticed and head down to the dragon's lair, I should have him out by the time the king's ready to blow out his candles, Morgana thought. Then I can rush back up here, lead the toast, thank everyone for coming and… well, we all know what's to come next, don't we? Morgana let the ghost of a smile slip past her lips. 'Maybe you're right' she said to Gwen. 'Maybe I _do_ have… ahem… other plans'.

'But you're supposed to be at the brunch, remember' Gwen reminded her. 'It was all your idea'.

'Oh I'll be there, all right' Morgana assured her. 'Don't worry about that. This shouldn't take long'.

Gwen raised an eyebrow. 'Really? That doesn't say much for Sir Galahad, I'm afraid'.

Morgana gave her handmaiden a Mona Lisa Smile. 'Who says it's Galahad I'm meeting up with?'

As she watched her boss head for the stables, a favourite rendezvous spot of Gwen herself, Morgana's loyal lady in waiting frowned, thoughtfully. If she's not going to make out with Galahad, Gwen thought, just who _is_ this mystery man, who's managed to steal my lady's heart virtually overnight? Her curiosity growing by the minute, Gwen waylaid Arthur in the palace dining hall. 'Take charge of proceedings, will you?' she whispered. 'I've got to check on something'.

'Okay' said Arthur; mystified. 'Be quick, though, won't you? Father's bound to come downstairs, any minute'.

'I will' said Gwen, hurrying off. 'And don't eat all the sugar almonds before the guests show up'.

Arthur swallowed the almond he'd filched from the bowl on the banquet table behind him, and managed a grin without choking. 'Yes, dear'.

By a quarter to ten the huge dining hall was full to brimming with guests, all eager to wish their king a happy birthday (and maybe get themselves a slice of that cake, which looked like it could feed most of the outlying villages, five times over). The gifts table was filling up fast, so it was a good thing Arthur had made sure it was propped up with cinder blocks in case it sagged in the middle. Still there was no sign of his father, but that was hardly a surprise. He _has_ to have spotted what's going on by now, Arthur thought. He's probably up there, polishing his crown, making sure he doesn't have morning breath and choosing just the right vest to match his cape.

Merlin drifted over; followed by that irritating singer his father was always drooling over, on the 24 hour MTV channel.

'Arthur, this is Ke$ha' he said. 'She's going to be singing Happy Birthday to your dad'.

Arthur made a face. 'Oh, she's not, is she? I thought we'd booked Pavarotti'.

'Pavarotti's dead'

'Or that other bloke, what's-his-name?'

'Tom Jones?'

'No, no! The short gay one'.

'Anthony Callea?'

'That's the one. Now _that_ pillow-biter can _sing_'.

'My Lord, that's not a very PC thing to say' Merlin reminded him. 'You don't want Come-a-lot's gay population up in arms, do you?'

Arthur laughed. 'What could they do to me, tickle me to death with their feather boas? Honestly, Merlin, you worry too much'.

'Arthur! Merlin! What _is_ this?'

The two young men turned as the king hurried down the stairs, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. 'This is great! This is really great! Happy birthday to me!'

Merlin raised an eyebrow. 'Has your old man been getting stuck into the top shelf grog? I've never seen him _this_ upbeat on his birthday'.

'I know' said Arthur, frankly amazed, himself. 'Usually by this time he's screaming for someone's head to roll! He always gets terribly depressed on his birthday. That's why Morgana thought it would be an idea to throw a party, to cheer him up'.

'Well it looks like it worked' said Merlin. He turned to Ke$ha, who was making eyes at one of the bouncers at the door. 'Come on' he said, grabbing her elbow. 'I'll introduce you to the king'.

'Oooh, Elvis?' Ke$ha cooed.

Arthur had to stifle a mocking laugh. 'Uh… No. Elvis has well and truly left the building, dear. He's talking about my father. The birthday boy? The man you're going to sing to, later'.

'Oh, right' Ke$ha said, nodding. 'Like, when does this party start, already?'

'Now' said Merlin, dragging her over the king. 'Consider it starting, now'.

Meanwhile, Gwen had followed Morgana out to the stables, and ducked behind a hay bale in the hope of catching her boss in the arms of her mystery man. But she was out of luck, as all Morgana did was head over to the armoury, and pull one of the swords from the rack. Gwen's eyes widened when she saw which one. Excalibur! She thought. What does Morgana want with Arthur's sword?

The plot was definitely getting thicker. But people were pouring into the castle and it was almost time for brunch to officially begin. Gwen had to be there, and so did Morgana, or it would look mighty suss. But Her Worship obviously had other ideas. Gwen watched her Lady set off in the opposite direction to the festivities, the fabled sword wrapped in her cloak. I'll find out what you're up to, Morgana, Gwen thought, if it's the last thing I do!

The king was feeling rather pleased with himself as he sat at the head of the table, Ke$ha perched on his lap like Bad Santa's favourite elf, and most of his favourite constituents breakfasting merrily before him. Arthur had opened proceedings with a pat on the back for his old man, and a few words about what a great job he'd done, running the place over the last twenty years, and how proud he was to have Uther as a father, yada, yada, yada.

Morgana and Gwen have really outdone themselves with this feast, the king thought, wondering which caterers the pair had hired. Come to think of it, the king realised, where are those two? They should be at my right hand, dining beside me! Or at the very least, Morgana should!

He turned to his son. 'Have you seen Morgana this morning?'

'No Sire, but I suspect she's busy, with all the preparations, and having to co-ordinate the band and everything…'

'She should be here' Uther insisted. 'Have Merlin go find her'.

'Merlin' Arthur clicked his fingers. 'Go and look for Morgana, will you? She's missing – as is Gwen! I wonder what those two are up to?'

'Now?' Merlin complained, his lips smeared with blueberry sauce from the pancakes he was shoving into his face like a front end loader. 'I'm eating'.

'Yes, now. You can eat later' Arthur growled. 'Morgana should be here'.

'Why is that _my_ responsibility?'

'Because you're _my_ servant, and _I _told you to go'.

Merlin rolled his eyes as he left the table. '_Man_-servant'

Gwen watched in disbelief as Morgana held Excalibur up so the dragon could see she had the right sword. 'Okay' it said. 'Now cut my chains'. It held out a leg.

'What are you waiting for?' It growled, when Morgana failed to move.

'I thought I'd have to say some kind of spell or enchantment, or something'.

'No. Just hit the chains' the dragon ordered. 'And hurry, will you? Twenty years makes for an _awful_ lot of chafing'.

'Yeah yeah, don't get your knickers in a twist' Morgana said, sighing. 'Which would be kind of difficult, as you don't actually _wear _knickers…'

'Stop stalling!' the dragon roared, and both Morgana and Gwen, who was further down the corridor, out of the dragon's line of sight, ducked for fear he'd roast them with his breath.

'Okay, okay! I'm working on it!'

'Not very hard, from my vantage point' the dragon whined.

Morgana ignored that one, and lifted the sword over her head again. 'Here goes' she said, and brought the sword down on the manacle around the dragon's foot or claw or whatever you'd call it. Gwen bit her lip. She was sure she was supposed to have yelled out, or done _something_ to stop this from happening, but all she could do was hunker in shame behind an outcropping of rock, like a total coward. She didn't have the slightest idea why Morgana would want to release the dragon, but whatever the reason, it didn't bode well for the king; or the kingdom in general.

'Hm' said Morgana, thoughtfully. 'I wonder why that didn't work'.

The dragon was quickly losing his patience. 'The _chain_, you brainless wench! You were meant to hit the chain, and _that_ will magically open the manacle around my leg'.

'Well, you could've said' Morgana sulked. 'Alright, I'll try again'.

This time it worked, and the dragon, finally free of his bonds, did a victory lap of his former prison, whooping with joy. Coming to settle on the rock ledge where he'd had so many of his conversations and arguments with Merlin, Kilgaro smiled at his rescuer. 'I am in debt to you, my Lady' he told her. 'Anything you want – just name it and it will be done'.

'Oh well, you _know_ about Uther' Morgana said. 'And Queen Mab… But I was also thinking, maybe…' she took a quick look behind her, and Gwen ducked behind her hiding place, just in time. 'Come here. I can't say the name aloud'.

Gwen frowned. It didn't take a genius to figure out what Morgana had in mind for Uther and Mab, but who _else_ did she plan on char-grilling, Cajun-style?

The dragon nodded gravely. 'By the time the king's birthday banquet dinner is finished, there will be three more items on the menu' he/she/it said, and licked its lips at the thought.

Gwen shuddered. I must get back and warn the king, she thought. Before all hell breaks loose!

All hell was threatening to break loose anyway, as Ke$ha, brain-dead twat she was, forgot Eris's warning about singing Tic Toc, and the Goddess was turning all sorts of colours in an effort to keep from using magic to turn the girl into an organ-grinding monkey or something weird like that. Camilla had to kick her in the shin to remind her that magic was forbidden in Uther's kingdom. But the king was clueless to her torment, as he sat in his chair at the head of the table, beaming from ear to ear.

'Now this is what _I _call a party' he told Arthur, who looked bored out of his mind.

Finally Gwen and Morgana took their seats close to the head of the table, one looking mighty pleased with herself; and the other like she'd seen a ghost. Merlin appeared soon after, seemingly from out of nowhere. When he saw Gwen and Morgana, he was so surprised he dropped the mini quiche he was holding, and juggled it like a third rate clown to stop it from hitting the floor.

'Oh, there you are' he said, finally getting a good grip on the quiche. 'See, Arthur? I told you they were probably just busy fixing their hair; or something'. He threw the finger food safely into his mouth before he could drop it again; then took his seat.

'So you decided you'd take a detour and feed your face instead of looking for them?' Arthur grumbled. 'Typical'.

Everyone (except for perhaps Uther) breathed a sigh of relief when the last irritating notes of Tic Toc sounded and Ke$ha jumped up and down like a cheerleader on crack. 'Now it's time to sing happy birthday to, err… um…' she turned and whispered something to her guitarist; then returned to the mike. 'To Come-a-Lot's King Uther! Yay! Happy Birthday, Uthey-baby!'

Merlin leaned over and chuckled into Morgana's ear. 'She forgot his name, what's the bet'.

'_I'll_ bet she forgot the name of the kingdom' Morgana replied. 'Those musician types _never_ know what city they're in, from one minute to the next'.

'So, now, I'll, like, sing Happy Birthday to my favourite ruler' Ke$ha said, batting her eyelids at the king, who melted, visibly, in his seat.

Without musical backing, the blonde pop star did a blatant rip-off of Marilyn Monroe's ode to John F Kennedy, complete with a little hip-wiggle at the end. Uther's face was flushed as he turned to his son and said, 'I think I'll be rolling out the Don't Disturb sign tonight, son and heir! Eh?' He nudged Arthur and winked.

'Father, you've had one too many pints of mead, already' Arthur pointed out. 'I'd be a little worried about brewer's droop, if _I_ were you'.

'Ah, that's where you're wrong' Uther assured him. 'After Merlin introduced me to that lovely piece over there, Henry, my faithful manservant, slipped me one of his little blue pills, and now I'm rarin' to go! Horny as that goat weed stuff Gaius is always peddling…'

'Father!' said Arthur, shocked, and admittedly, impressed. 'You're not taking someone else's prescription medication, are you? Viagra isn't to be trifled with…'

'Ah, go to buggery' slurred Uther. 'I'll do what I want, when I want, with whoever I want…' (As if to prove a point, he broke into a rather melodic rendition of "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to"; substituting "cry" for a four letter word not often said in polite company).

Just as he'd hit a crescendo, someone stood up and started tapping the side of their champagne flute with a fork. All the talking in the dining hall settled down as the entire room turned toward the king's ward.

'I would like to say a few words' Morgana began. 'Uther has been like a father to me since he sent my own father off to die in a bloody battle that had little to do with him. And so he should. He owes me'.

'Here, here' called Galahad.

'And today, the man I now call Father celebrates his fiftieth year of life. I ask you all to charge your glasses and join me in a toast to our king'.

'This is it' whispered Eris to Camilla. 'This is the moment we've been waiting for'.

'Are you sure it's going to work?' Camilla asked. 'Nothing could go wrong?'

'Don't even mention it' Eris hissed. '_Nothing_ can go wrong'.

'Stop!' Yelled Gaius, running into the room as fast as his arthritic legs would take him. 'Don't drink from that goblet, Sire! It's _poisoned_!'

'Oh, bloody hell' groaned Eris. 'Except _that_'.

'What are you talking about, old man?' Uther thundered. 'You're ruining my birthday party!'

'I'm saving your life, my King' Gaius corrected him. 'You see, I just happened to overhear a conversation between two of your guests this morning! They did an enchantment on your favourite wine goblet so that when you drank from it, you would fall down dead!'

Most of the townsfolk gasped in shock, but Morgana glanced over at Eris; then Mab. It could only be one of those two. Or perhaps they were in on it, together? No, she thought. Eris may be the conspiring type, but Mab isn't. She'd want the glory all to herself.

But the ugly witch queen looked just as flummoxed as any of the other guests.

Unless she's faking it, Morgana thought. That would be just like her!

'The Goddess Eris' Gaius cried, '…Is the one behind this'.

'Prove it', Eris said, her lavender eyes flashing. 'Just prove it, old man'.

'There is no such thing as a Goddess' Uther raged. 'That's blasphemy! There is only one God, and he's male!'

'Actually…' Eris said, putting up her hand as if she were in class, 'I happen to have _seen_ your Christian God, with my own eyes, and I'm here to tell you its neither male nor female. More of a weird, pulsating, snot-green light, really…'

'You will shut your hole; blasphemer!' Uther cried.

Eris shrugged. 'Yeah well, whatever'.

'Guards, throw her in the dungeons!' Uther demanded. 'She's to be executed, tomorrow morning, nine o'clock, sharp!'

'But Sire' Camilla cried, 'You can't execute a deity! Grave consequences will come down upon you _and_ your kingdom if you try to kill a goddess! Take me, instead'.

'I fully intend to execute you both' Uther told her.

'You _can't_ execute Camilla! She hasn't done anything wrong!' Merlin protested. 'Plus, she's kinda my girlfriend'.

Camilla, who had tears running down her cheeks, fought the guards trying to drag her away from Merlin. 'Just let me talk to him' she begged. 'Please…'

'Throw them downstairs and chain them to the wall' Uther commanded his hired goons. 'And I want an around the clock guard on the cells. Those prisoners are _not_ to be allowed to escape'.

'Why are you doing this?' Merlin asked, throwing himself at the king's mercy.

'Because the Goddess or whatever she calls herself was conspiring to kill me; that's why! And because your little hussy was right in on it, with her! And don't say she wasn't. I didn't come down in the last shower…'

Or the one before it, Merlin thought, bitterly. Or the one before _that_, you old tyrant! I _must_ try and bust Camilla and Eris out of jail before dawn!

'And' Uther added, 'If you so much as _think_ about breaking them out of jail, I'll have your head lopped off and fixed to the wall of my private bathroom, just so you have to spend eternity watching me take a dump'.

Well, Merlin thought, it's a good job you don't read minds, then! As he watched the guards drag Camilla and Eris away, he remembered something. Uther may not read minds. But Camilla could! Maybe there was a way to save her, after all…

Come on, Morgana thought, impatiently. Where _are _you, Kilgaro? I couldn't have _planned_ a better diversion, myself! While Uther's busy ranting and foaming at the mouth over Eris's failed plot to kill him, you've got the perfect opportunity to burst in here, and kill him! So, at the risk of sounding like Lara Bingle, where the bloody hell are you, Dragon Breath?

As if in answer to her question, a loud roar could be heard from just outside the castle. Uther went from ruddy to pale in seconds flat. 'What was that?'

Merlin thought he knew that sound, and gulped. It couldn't possibly be true – could it? If so, who had done it? Who had dared release the beast from his twenty year prison?

Another roar shook loose some candles from the walls and they fell, their flames dying the instant they hit the marble floors. The stained glass windows shook. The sixty-odd guests gasped and murmured in horror, as the outline of a very ticked off dragon appeared in one of the long, arched windows of the massive dining hall.

'It's Godzilla' Gawain breathed. 'Come to life!'

'You idiot' Galahad scoffed. 'It's not Godzilla! It's a dragon, can't you see that? Check the wings. Godzilla didn't have wings'.

'It's Judgement Day' Uther muttered. 'It's the end of everything'.

Arthur thought otherwise. 'Come on, Father' he said, grabbing his old man by the shoulders. 'Let's get you to safety, and my men and I will take care of it'.

'There's no taking care of it' Uther babbled. 'He'll roast you alive, and eat your carcass…'

'What's wrong with him?' Lancelot wanted to know. 'He's not acting very king-like'.

'He's wigging out' Arthur explained. Spinning, he looked for Merlin. 'Merlin, get my father up to his room! I'm going to fight the…'

But before Arthur could finish his sentence, the dragon smashed through the floor-to-ceiling window, and headed straight for the king and his son!

Merlin's bright blue eyes zipped from the dragon to Arthur, who was blocking his father from the dragon's reach with his shield. But the shield could only cover one person at a time, and Arthur's blond head was visible over the top. In an instant, Merlin made a life-altering decision, and fixed his magical gaze on Arthur's shield. As the dragon's breath raced toward Arthur, the young prince's shield seemed to double in size. Luckily both Arthur and Uther had turned their heads away from the scorching heat being blasted at them, and didn't notice Merlin standing off to the left, his eyes glowing like embers. But someone _did_ see - someone who previously had no clue as to Merlin's gift.

Gwen gasped. Merlin's a _sorcerer_!

No, she thought. Merlin's a hero.

Things happened terribly quickly after that. Needing a few minutes rest to refuel, the dragon flew toward the banquet table. Guests shrieked and ran every which way, just trying to disappear before the beast decided it wanted to be a living flame thrower again. Spotting a tall, blonde, ugly woman running for the stairs, a short, tasty looking morsel hot on her heels, Kilgaro grinned and forgot all about the banquet food. He hadn't had a faerie since he dined on that old fag-hag, Tinkerbell, back in '66. Time for a trip down memory lane, he thought, remembering the way she'd sizzled and popped in his mouth like Sherbert. The poor lad screamed as the dragon swooped, almost biting him in half in the process.

'Alfie!' the blonde woman screamed as she turned to see her servant being devoured whole. 'No! Alfric!'

Kilgaro gobbled up Alfie like he was mere finger food; then headed for the blonde woman. Christ, he thought, hope she tastes better than she looks!

But the blonde woman wasn't above doing magics on him. Her eyes glowed and pink sparks flew from her fingers. All of a sudden, the dragon ran straight into an invisible brick wall. Bitch, he thought. Terrific! She's done a binding spell. That's just great. How am I supposed to work my way through Morgana's shit list if they're all using magic on me? This is _not_ fair!

He turned back to look for Uther, but he and Arthur had gone. Spotting a lone blonde girl dressed like a slutty Bratz doll in a too-short skirt and Come-Fuck-Me boots cowering in the corner (as if by doing that somehow the dragon couldn't see her) Kilgaro honed in on her, instead. But the girl didn't run, or shriek, or do anything like that. No – she started to sing! And not even very well. Also, she had an _extremely_ annoying American accent.

'My first kiss went a little like thiiiiis' she bleated, annoying. 'And twiiist, and twiiiist…'

Kilgaro couldn't stand it. 'What _are_ you doing?' he asked her, flabbergasted.

'Um… Soothing the savage beast?' the girl replied, giving him her best puppy dog eyes.

'Not very bloody likely' said Kilgaro. And burned her to a cinder where she stood.

With Arthur and Uther out of harm's way, at least for the time being, Merlin made his way down to the catacombs underneath the castle, searching wildly for where the king's men had stashed his lady love and her boss. He hadn't had time to think up a plan thanks to the dragon's showy entrance, but he was hoping that the guards had heard the massacre upstairs and had decided to hightail it out of there before they had their arses handed to them, as well. If he could just find the right dungeon…

'Merlin'.

He turned to find Gaius wandering the dank corridors, as well. 'Gaius… what are you doing down here?'

'Hiding, just like you' Gaius replied. 'Oh, I could have gone to the bomb shelter with Arthur, Uther, Gwen and Morgana, but they would have kicked me out, anyway. I'm old, frail, and not worth wasting a week's rations on…'

'I'm not hiding' Merlin told him. 'Can you keep a secret?'

'Merlin' said Gaius, impatiently. 'I've kept yours for this long, haven't I?'

'Oh yeah – of course. I forgot about that. I'm not talking about _that _secret, though. I'm busting Camilla out. I don't know how, but I'm going to do it'.

Gaius looked up at his tall, skinny young protégé. The boy's blue eyes were wide and full of determination. His jaw was set, and he looked ready for action. Gaius felt something stirring under his robes. 'Of course you are, my dear boy' he said. 'Come with me… I think I know where the king might have them stashed'.

'Really?' asked Merlin, 'You'll help me? But you could get into terrible trouble…'

'I don't care about myself, anymore, Merlin' Gaius replied. 'I'm old, and my knees ache when it rains. If Uther wants to kill me, he can have at it. But I'd do _anything_ for you, my boy. Anything at all…'

With a hand on the small of Merlin's back, willing himself not to go lower, Gaius led Merlin down the hall and around a bend, then opened a heavy wooden door. 'They're in there' he said, and grinned evilly as Merlin crossed the threshold, eager to see his lady love.

'But… Gaius… There's no one in here' Merlin said, sounding confused. Turning, he started to understand his predicament, as Gaius closed the heavy door behind him, and rammed the sliding bolt into place.

The old pervert opened the small window in the top of the door and watched as Merlin's eyes glowed, then nothing. Glowed; then nothing.

Gaius hit the intercom button. 'The room is protected by a spell barring magic from being used in there' he told his prisoner. 'Nothing you do will work; my young warlock. You're mine; now, to do with as I wish'. He shivered with the delicious anticipation of it.

'You were supposed to be my friend!' Merlin accused, looking as though he was fighting tears. 'Were you just lying to me, all these years? Biding your time until you had the chance to get me in here? What are you planning on doing, torturing me?'

'Something like that' said his captor, cryptically. He closed the window and turned away, smiling to himself. Yes. Something very nearly like that…

Next on Misadventures of Merlin

Will Gwen be able to keep Merlin's secret?

Will Gaius have his way with Merlin, at last?

Arthur and the Knights hunt the dragon; and

Morgana realises that if you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself…


	8. Chapter 8

**Episode 8 – Revenge! **

Merlin pressed his palms against the door and pushed. Not that he actually thought he could open it without magic – he was aware that he wasn't exactly Schwarzenegger in the muscle department – but something, maybe insanity from being trapped in this cell for hours on end, told him to keep trying.

'Blast Gaius' he muttered to himself. 'Why couldn't he have gotten a crush on someone else? Why me? I'm no Robert Pattinson. I can't make all the teenage girls swoon! The only thing I've got going for me is magic! And even _that _can't get me out of here!'

He kicked the door in frustration; then hopped up and down, holding his foot and swearing under his breath. Finally he got fed up and sank to the floor, exhausted.

After banging the back of head against the stone wall for ten minutes, for lack of anything better to do, Merlin decided no; that probably wasn't the best idea as his head hurt, and instead took the time to study his cell. At the far end was a weird looking contraption he couldn't make head or tail of. What it was for, he didn't want to guess. Although from the rumours he'd heard of Gaius's perversions, it probably had something to do with torture of some description. Merlin couldn't imagine getting off on someone else's pain. He didn't like pain, full stop, his or anyone else's! Even Jim Rose's Circus, which had so fascinated Arthur (the sick prat), made Merlin squirm!

Other than the contraption, which boasted straps for arms and legs and something Merlin assumed was a head restraining device, there was precious little else in the room to occupy his time. He could have at least left me a book to read, Merlin thought, crabbily. I'm going to go crazy in here, staring at the walls!

Suddenly he heard the sound of a key in a lock and sat bolt upright. An idea was forming in his mind. If he could just trick Gaius into thinking he was okay with being his prisoner, maybe the old boy would relax and make a mistake, which would give Merlin time to escape!

The old healer entered the room, being careful to close the door and lock it behind him. 'Ah' he said, with a look on his face Merlin didn't fancy, 'Finally we're alone'.

Merlin gulped. 'Uh… Yes… and I've been looking forward to it, all day'.

Gaius blinked, but didn't respond. 'The birthday party's well and truly over'.

'Yes, well, a rampaging dragon tends to do that' Merlin pointed out. 'I wonder who set it free'.

'I don't care' said Gaius, shrugging. 'Uther's been keeping that thing prisoner for two decades. Stands to reason it would be a little ticked off, and want payback'.

'Like me, being cooped up in here?' Merlin reminded him. 'I wish _I _could barbeque _you_ with a single breath! You were supposed to be my friend…'

'Again you start with that. Betrayal is the least of your worries'.

'So… what are you going to do with me?'

Gaius smiled. 'All in good time; my dear boy'.

'What are you waiting for? If you're planning on taking advantage of me, let me know now, so I can practice going to my happy place'.

'Oh, I'll make you go to your happy place' Gaius leered. 'Unfortunately, I'm an old man, and Horny Goat Weed takes a while to kick in. So let's talk'. He grabbed the chair and put it down opposite Merlin on the floor. Sitting down, he proceeded to slide a foot up Merlin's leg. Merlin hissed and folded both legs up against his chest.

'Have you heard anything more about Camilla and Eris?' he asked Gaius, desperate to take the focus off himself. 'Do you know where Uther's keeping them?'

'If I did, do you think I'd tell you? You just want your little girlfriend back. Well, Uther's going to execute her tomorrow, and you know what that means'.

Merlin winced and drew a finger across his throat, gulping.

'Nope' said Gaius, brightly. 'The men get the axe; the women are burned at the stake'.

'Well, that's hardly fair!' cried Merlin. 'Why do men get to die quickly, while women have to suffer? My darling Camilla…' A tear rolled down his cheek.

'I wish I could tell you I cared, but…' Gaius shrugged. 'No such luck'.

'Just do whatever you're going to do' said Merlin, suddenly. 'It doesn't matter any more, anyway'.

Gaius pouted. 'You're meant to cry, scream, struggle! It's no fun if there's no fight in you'.

'You're sick'.

'Thank you'. Gaius took a bow. 'Are you hungry?'

'Yes! I'm starving!' Merlin said, giving Gaius his best puppy dog eyes. 'If you bring me a hamburger, I _promise_ to cry and scream, as much as you want'.

'Very well. A hamburger it is' said Gaius. Standing up, he leaned over Merlin and ruffled his hair, condescendingly. Merlin resisted the urge to punch the old boy in the guts, preferring to bide his time. When the court physician had his back turned, and was unlocking the door, Merlin stood up and tiptoed behind him. The second Gaius had the door open, Merlin put his arm around the old man's throat, and squeezed until he collapsed to the floor. Then he jumped over Gaius's body, grabbed the keys from the door and locked Gaius in his own torture chamber!

'Now' said Merlin, aloud, 'Time to find Camilla and Eris!'

Camilla couldn't believe she was in this situation. Here she was, the maid of a Goddess, and the silly bint couldn't even break them out of jail because Uther didn't believe in her magic! I guess that's the big downside to being a deity, she surmised. If you're a plain old witch, like Mab, it doesn't matter if people believe in you or not, you can use your powers in a place like this! Maybe I should have joined forces with Mab instead, Camilla thought. _She_ wouldn't let a pesky lock hold her back!

'What are you thinking?' Eris asked suddenly. 'And don't tell me you're not – I can practically see the wheels turning, in there. Have you got a plan to get us out of here?'

'Me? A plan? Isn't that _your _job? You are, after all, a God' Camilla reminded her. 'I thought you were supposed to be able to whip up a tornado by sheer force of will? Instead you're this impotent hack, who has to resort to silly plots to get people to lose their mind! You couldn't even summon a gentle breeze in this place! Why, even that old cow Mab makes you look like a total incompetent! I should have teamed up with her instead….'

Eris's face was getting redder and redder as Camilla continued to insult her. Her hands curled into fists, and her eyes narrowed. But it wasn't until Camilla made some crack about purple making her look washed out that the Goddess finally snapped, and lunged at her not-so-loyal handmaiden, grabbing her ponytail and sinking her nails into the girl's cheek.

'Ow, you bitch! Get off me' said Camilla, applying a one-handed Chinese burn to Eris's forearm.

'You first, Slag!'

'No, _you_ first!' Camilla grabbed herself a handful of Eris's dark hair and pulled hard. The Goddess shrieked, and all of a sudden, thunder rumbled above their heads. 'What's that?' Camilla said. 'Sounds like the party's warming up'

'It's thunder, you dim bitch' Eris snarled. 'Turns out I'm not so impotent, after all'.

'Yeah right' Camilla scoffed. 'They're probably bowling up there. At a guess I'd say we're right under the main dining hall'.

'Bowling in the dining hall? Gee, you really can't believe that I'm capable of using my powers here, can you? So much for a loyal servant' Eris let go of Camilla's hair and crossed her arms over her chest, pouting. 'Don't you remember how when I used to get angry, lightening would strike my nemesis dead? I could arrange that if you keep pissing me off'.

'So go ahead, then' Camilla challenged. 'Strike me dead! I bet you can't'.

Eris glared at her. 'Don't push me, Camilla…'

'Or what? You'll pay someone to curse me?'

'Aaarggh!' Eris howled, in rage and frustration. 'Shut up, you… you… short freak!'

'Short freak? Is that the best you can do?'

And it was on for young and old. Fists flew, nails scratched and even teeth were employed, at one stage! The fight dragged on and on until finally, beaten and bloodied, both combatants dropped to the floor, exhausted. Eris was about to say something when the door to their cell burst open, and in walked an odd-looking knight. His chain mail was far too loose, and his helmet looked too large for such thin shoulders. Even the boots he wore weren't the best fit. 'You're the skinniest knight I've ever seen' Eris said, rather rudely. 'Who _are_ you?'

The knight ripped off his helmet, and Camilla gasped in joy. 'Merlin! You've come to rescue us!'

'Yep' said Merlin. 'But we've got to hurry. Hang on… what happened to you two? Did Uther order his men to rough you up?'

'No, that was _her_' Camilla said, gesturing at Eris, who was surveying the damage the fight had done to her dress. 'We kind of had a disagreement'.

'I'll say' laughed Merlin. 'You can tell me about that later. Right now, we'd better go before Uther's men come back. If I couldn't pass for a knight with you guys, I've got even less hope fooling them'.

Meanwhile, Mab had managed to get away from Kilgaro while he was busy roasting the singer to a crisp, and was now busy packing her bags up in her chambers. Why on Earth I decided to come to a place like this is beyond me, she thought, sniffing as she thought of her poor manservant, Alfie. How he must have suffered in those last moments… Being eaten alive by a dragon was one of Twenty-to-One's top most painful ways to die, according to the terribly orange fat man with the bad facelift on TV. Along with being skewered on a bed of nails and stung by a hundred scorpions at once!

Picking up her suitcase, Mab turned toward the door, but was shocked to see Morgana standing in her way. And behind her was none other than the dragon!

'Were you going somewhere?' Morgana asked, innocently.

'Getting the hell out of here, that's what I'm doing' Mab snapped. 'Get out of my way!'

'Oh… I thought you were a big bad witch who could just fling me out of her way if she wanted'.

'I will, if you don't stand aside and let me through! And keep that animal of yours away from me! His breath stinks'.

Morgana folded her arms over her chest. 'He has a name'.

'Kilgaro. Whatever. Move'.

'Actually, we might have a teensy problem with that. See, in return for freeing the last dragon, he's agreed to help get rid of anyone I deem to be a right royal pain in my arse. And you, Mab, are on that list'.

Mab pouted. 'What did I ever do to you?'

'Oh well… let me see. Apart from using my toothbrush to clean the mould off the bathroom tiles, there was the time you drank _all _the V8 juice and didn't think to replace it; all the times you barged in while I was having a bath and _insisted_ I listen to your incessant whining about how men just don't appreciate your many talents; the times you borrowed my clothes without asking; how you accidentally on purpose spilt cranberry juice on my favourite top when I caught you wearing it without asking…'

'Are we finished yet, dear? I need to go collect my pension' Mab interrupted, rolling her eyes. 'Okay, okay so I did all those things! So what? They're only minor annoyances! It's not like I deserve the death penalty for being the world's worst houseguest'.

Morgana frowned as she pondered Mab's words. 'No. Probably not' she decided. 'So here's what I'll do. I'll give you a thirty second head start. If you're not out the gates of Come-a-lot by that time, Kilgaro here gets his supper an hour early'.

'Fine', said Mab. 'I guess I'll see you, then. You have a _lovely_ home. Thanks for letting me stay here'. Before Morgana could respond, the witch had disappeared into thin air.

Kilgaro made a huffing noise. 'I suppose I should be glad I didn't have to eat the old cow' he muttered. 'She was mutton dressed up as slightly younger mutton, and she probably tasted like that, too'.

'Ew', Morgana said, making a face. 'You're grossing me out. Okay… Until Uther shows up, let's hit number three on my death list'.

'Ay' said Kilgaro, licking his lips. 'Now _that_ sounds like a plan'.

Meanwhile Arthur and his knights were galloping through the forest, acting on a tip that the last dragon had set himself up in a cave there after the debacle that was the king's birthday brunch. But after an hour and a half of searching, Arthur was forced to admit they'd been sent on a wild goose chase. By Morgana, of all people!

'What _is_ she up to?' Arthur asked no one in particular. 'It's almost as if she wanted me out of the way, for some reason! But I have no idea why! I should have trusted my instincts, back there in the bomb shelter, when she told me she'd had a dream the dragon was in the forest! I mean, her visions have come true before, but…'

'My Lord' interrupted Lancelot, 'Morgana would never lie to you about something like that. She is a lady, and a lady is true to her word'.

Arthur shook his head. 'My man, you have a _lot_ to learn about women'.

Suddenly the horses up ahead reared. Something was coming. Arthur peered into the dark of the forest. 'What _is_ that up ahead?'

'It's a carriage, my lord' Galahad called back. 'Sort of like one of those old gypsy caravans. I wonder what it's doing out this neck of the woods?'

'Well, we'll soon find out' said Arthur. 'I know every civilian in the kingdom. I _don't_ know anyone who owns a horse-drawn gypsy caravan. That can mean only one thing'.

'You _don't_ know everyone?' Lancelot guessed.

'No, you fool, they're outsiders. And you know what the old man thinks of outsiders. Especially gypsies! To Father, that's just another word for sorcerer'.

The odd little caravan soon came into view. Pulled by a single white pony, the brightly painted wagon boasted a large blue, red and yellow banner on the side, which read, simply, "The Leyland Brothers"

'The Leyland Brothers' Arthur read, aloud. 'What kind of a name is that for a legitimate business? It doesn't even tell you what they're selling'.

'What makes you think they're selling anything?' Lancelot asked.

'Gypsies are _always_ selling something' Arthur murmured, putting his hand on the hilt of Excalibur. 'And tricking people out of their hard-earned money; while they're at it. Be on your guard, men. They'll try their best to charm you. Don't be fooled by their wiles'.

The old man at the reins called the pony to a halt, and the caravan stopped several feet in front of Arthur's posse.

'Who are you people?' the prince asked, warily. He was careful not to sound too defensive, as gypsies had a reputation of being moody, and could put a curse on you for the most ridiculous of slights. Or at least, that's what Arthur had heard. He'd never actually met one in person.

The old man sitting up in the driver's seat didn't say a word. Instead, the door to the caravan opened and out stepped a man with a ginger walrus moustache, wearing a tweed waistcoat. His head was as bald as a bowling ball. 'Hello, chaps' he said. 'Nice night for a ride in the woods, eh wot?'

'You're not a gypsy' Arthur scoffed. 'What are you playing at?'

'I'm Mike Leyland' said the man. 'I'm a travelling hypnotist and showman'.

'And I'm his brother, Mal' said another man, slightly taller than the first, and with more hair, but otherwise, a dead ringer for his sibling. 'We're the Leyland Brothers'.

'Yeah, yeah I get that' said Arthur, impatiently. 'What I want to know is, what are you doing in my woods?'

'_Your_ woods? You own the forest, then?' asked Mike. 'Well, you're a lucky man, eh wot?'

'Stop saying that!' Arthur commanded. 'I asked you, what business brings you to these parts?'

'We're just setting up camp for the night' Mal replied. 'We're just passing through'.

'What's this stuff about you being a hypnotist?' Lancelot asked Mike. 'Can you help people stop smoking?'

Arthur glared at Lancelot, but said nothing. The fool would find out for himself that people like these… Leyland brothers were not to be trusted.

Mike nodded. 'I can make a man stop smoking; I can make him cluck like a chicken, if I've a mind to'.

'And _I _am an illusionist' Mal added. 'I don't call myself a magician, because of the bad connotations of the word, especially around here. Nothing I do is _actual_ magic. But the kids love us at parties'.

'That's what you do?' Arthur asked, incredulously. 'You perform at kids' parties?'

'Any occasion, really' Mike Leyland replied. 'Anywhere there's an audience, that's where we'll be'.

Arthur bit his lip. 'Well… okay then. You can camp here tonight, but you're to be on your way tomorrow. There's a dragon in these woods, or so we're told. Not sure I believe it, myself. But you'd best be careful, anyway'.

'Thank you for the tip' Mike Leyland said, bowing before the prince. 'We appreciate your hospitality, Sir'.

'He's the Crown Prince Arthur' Lancelot told them. 'So it's a royal welcome'.

Something changed in Mike Leyland's tiny, pig-like eyes. 'Is that so? A prince, eh? Might you be related to Uther Pendragon? I haven't seen that old coot since, well, the Great Purge'.

Arthur's hand instinctively headed for his sword, again, on mention of his father. The king had made so many enemies; he'd lost count of who was bearing a grudge these days, and who was still a friend. 'Yes. He's my father'.

'Arthur! My dear boy! I haven't seen you since you were knee-high to a grasshopper!' Mike Leyland chortled. 'Send word to the castle and I'll come up and see the old chap!'

Lancelot nudged Arthur's foot with his own. 'I think they're on the level' he whispered. 'At least give them a chance'.

'I'll tell my father you were asking after him' Arthur replied, finally. 'And get word back to you if he wishes your company'.

'My, you're a stuffy old sock already, aren't you?' Mal Leyland exclaimed. 'Chip off the old block, that's for sure'.

'They certainly seem to know your old man' Galahad said, over his shoulder. 'What should we do, Sire?'

'Like I said. Let them camp for the night, and let the old man know they're in town. If he wants to see them, he'll send for them'.

Mike Leyland bowed again. 'Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Prince Arthur. I look forward to catching up with the king'.

'Well… have a good night, then' said Arthur. 'And we'll see if he's as anxious to catch up as you are, soon enough'.

Gwen, meanwhile, had trudged back up to her chambers after spending the afternoon locked up in that dismal bomb shelter with the king, Morgana and Arthur. It had taken all she had, physically, to keep a neutral face, and not show that she knew something they didn't know. If they even guessed she knew something, they would want to know what it was she knew, and that would be bad, _very _bad, for Merlin. But Gwen by nature was not a very good liar. And what she'd seen in that dining hall had so freaked her out that she was itching to tell _somebody_. So it was a relief to finally leave the confines of the bomb shelter and go somewhere alone, where she could think.

So Merlin's a sorcerer, she mused, as she poured far too much bubble bath in the tub. If I hadn't seen it for myself, I wouldn't have believed it. I mean… Merlin? He's so… normal! What makes magic choose people, then, she wondered. Is it their inherent wickedness? Uther would have me believe so. But I just can't believe that Merlin's wicked. There isn't a malicious bone in his body!

The more Gwen pondered the subject the more she came to believe that Uther was the one who had it all wrong. If Merlin indeed was a sorcerer, then he was using his magic for good, not evil. In fact, Merlin having magic in him at all explained a great deal of weird shit that had been happening over the past few years! Like every time Arthur seemed to get into strife, something improbable – impossible, even - would happen to get him out of it, and Merlin was always right there, in the mix. Gwen didn't believe in coincidences.

Suddenly, just as she was about to drop her robe and hop into her bath, the door burst open, and Morgana sailed in, followed by the dragon, who had some trouble fitting through the door.

'Ew, don't bring _him_ in here' Gwen said. 'He smells of burnt human flesh'.

'There's a good reason for that' Morgana beamed. 'He just got rid of Henry, Father's faithful bit of rough trade – whoops, loyal manservant, for me! First he cooked him til he was medium to well-done, then he…'

'Gross, Morgana!' cried Gwen. 'I don't want to know! I mean, I know you hated the guy, and I know he gave you the skeevies, but he didn't deserve to die like that! Jeez!'

'He did more than give me the skeevies' said Morgana, staring out the window. 'He was a dirty old man who won't be feeling _anyone_ up, where he's gone'.

'You should have told Uther, you know' Gwen pointed out. 'If he'd known, I'm sure he would have cast the creep out, himself. Or had him executed – which would have been a far sight better than being eaten alive'.

'He wasn't alive' protested Kilgaro. 'He was well and truly dead by the time I finished cooking him'.

Gwen held her hands over her ears. 'Lalalalala' she sang, aloud. 'Wow – Merlin's right, this _does_ work'.

'Where _is _Merlin, anyway?' asked Morgana. 'I haven't seen him since brunch. Do you think he's all right?'

'Why wouldn't he be all right?' Gwen asked. 'The chief cause of all the trouble is right here, smelling up my bathroom! You didn't happen to eat Merlin in the middle of all that drama downstairs; did you?' she asked the dragon.

'Merlin… Let's see… skinny kid, who kept me chained up so he could use me for free advice on his destiny. Nope, I think I left him alive' Kilgaro joked. 'But he was lucky. If I'd been in a worse mood, he would have been toast. And I do mean literally'.

'Destiny' Morgana pondered. 'That's an odd word to use. Merlin has a destiny?'

Gwen bit her lip. 'Well… I suppose we all do, in a way' she said. 'Would you like a bath, my Lady?'

'Don't try to change the subject, Gwen!' Morgana scolded. 'You know something!'

'No I don't' said Gwen, quickly. 'I know nothing. Really'.

Morgana narrowed her green eyes at her servant girl. 'I'm not sure I believe you. Kilgaro, will you leave us?'

'Very well, my lady' said the dragon, and backed out the door, again, with great difficulty.

Morgana turned back to Gwen, who was looking more sheepish by the minute.

'Spill, Gwen' she ordered. 'What is this about Merlin and a destiny?'

Gwen laughed, nervously. 'I r-really, _do_ know nothing about it, my Lady. Except… I think…' then inspiration hit 'I think he's betrothed'.

'What? Merlin? He doesn't even have a girlfriend'.

'Yes he does. He's going out with that pixie chick who does the Goddess Eris's make up for her'.

'But they've only known each other a few days! Gwen, you're making this up! I _know_ you know something'.

'No you don't' said Gwen, boldly. 'You know nothing. Even if you recognised that you knew nothing, then that would be something. But you don't'.

'Cut the BS, Gwen' Morgana snapped. 'Or I'll go to the source, and ask him, myself'.

'No, you can't' said Gwen, panicked. 'Um… Because… there's nothing to know'

Morgana groaned, and slapped her forehead. 'I feel like I'm going backward, here! All right… have it your way. But I _will _find out your secret, Guinevere! Or should I say, _Merlin's _secret'.

'Merlin's secret is… he's in love with you' blurted Gwen. 'There… I told you. He's been desperately in love with you from the moment he first clapped eyes on you. He believes it's his destiny to make you fall in love with him. But he's just a simple servant boy, so he thinks he's not good enough for you. Oh my God, he is _so_ going to kill me when he finds out I told you'.

Morgana had a strange look on her face. 'Merlin's in love with me' she said, almost to herself. '_Me_?'

'Yes, you' Gwen said. 'But like I said – don't let on that I told you. He'll never forgive me'.

'All right' said Morgana. 'I promise. I won't tell. Now hop along out of here. I'm having a bath'.

'Hey' Gwen cried, indignantly. 'That was _my_ bath!'

Uther trampled through the broken glass still scattered over the dining room floor as he headed up to his chambers, tired and hungry after spending much of the day in the bomb shelter, for his own safety. The others had left earlier, but it had been Arthur's idea that he stay put the longest, just in case someone actually made good on their threat to kill him. There were far too many people getting about with gripes against him, Arthur had pointed out. What with Eris trying to poison him, and someone setting the dragon on him, and Mab, one of his oldest enemies, just being in town… He felt as though he was walking around with a massive target on his back. What he needed was a rubdown from his faithful manservant, Henry, a nip of that Scotch and a big fat Stogie…

Come to think of it, where _was _Henry? Uther hadn't seen him since that morning, when the middle-aged, greying Scotsman handed him a cure for what ailed him in the bedroom, in the hope that that foxy minx Ke$ha would decide that she wanted to fuck royalty. Yes, Henry was good for a lot of things. He was kind of like the best concierge at a hotel, who always had the best seats to a Leeds United game, or knew where all the happening parties were. The man was a freak, it was that simple. He always knew what Uther wanted; sometimes before Uther even knew he wanted it! So where the hell was he?

'If you're looking for Henry, don't bother' said a voice Uther hadn't heard since… well, that morning, really, but he'd successfully managed to repress most of _that_ nastiness.

The king looked up at the dragon, which was perched on the newel post at the top of the stairs. The mythical creature smelled of death.

'What have you done with Henry?' Uther asked, his face going red with pent up rage. 'I demand you answer!'

'You might want to ask Morgana that question' Kilgaro replied, casually. 'He's made life pretty difficult for her since she turned fourteen, going by what she told me'.

'Difficult how?' said Uther, refusing to acknowledge out loud what he knew in his heart to be true. 'She never mentioned anything to me'.

'She wouldn't. She thought it would be his word against hers'.

'So… he's dead' said Uther, flatly.

'Yes' said Kilgaro. 'But he's not the only one on her shit list'.

'She's the one who set you free, isn't she'.

'She might be'.

'And you told her… what? That you would smite her enemies in return? Who else has she had you kill for her?'

'Well, she was gunning for Mab, but her reasons were rather trivial, so…'

'Trivial? The whole reason the bitch came to town is to plot my death! Morgana couldn't have had _her_ bumped off, oh _no_…'

'Because Numero Uno on Morgana's shit list, my Lord, is…'

'Father!' Arthur interrupted, as he and the knights returned from the forest. 'You'll never guess who we ran into… Bloody hell!' The young prince rushed to put a barrier between his father and the dragon. '_You_ were supposed to be shacked up in the forest somewhere! So much for that', Arthur hissed at Kilgaro. 'That's the last time I listen to one of Morgana's so-called _feelings_…'

'Morgana said that to get you and the knights out of the way' Uther told his son, quietly. 'So she could set her pit bull terrier here on my faithful manservant'.

Arthur looked up at the dragon. 'You killed Henry? Why?'

'Because he'd been trying to take liberties with her since she was fourteen. If it weren't for that chastity belt, he'd have done a lot worse' Kilgaro told him. 'He deserved it, the lecherous old creep'.

'Here here' cried Galahad. 'Where is My Lady?'

'Having a bath' said the dragon, with something that approached a grin on his scaly face. 'I dare you to go in there'.

'He'll be doing nothing of the sort. What news do you bring of the forest, Arthur?' the king asked, holding out an arm to block Galahad's progress up the stairs.

'Well, we didn't find the dragon, because obviously, he's still here', said Arthur, rolling his eyes, 'But we _did _run into a couple of chaps by the name of Leyland. They say they know you, Father. In fact, from what they were saying, they know you quite well! What do you say of them, are they good people?'

'They most certainly are' said Uther, a smile on his dial for the first time since Ke$ha had sung Happy Birthday to him that morning. 'Those guys go right back to my days at Eton! Send word that they can join me here, at the castle, while they're in town, will you? My, my! The Leylands… well as if that isn't a blast from the past…'

The king made his way up the stairs, past Kilgaro, who looked as though he was considering putting a torch to Come-a-lot's main man right there and then, but had to rethink that plan when five knights thrust their swords at him. 'All right, all right' grouched Kilgaro. 'I'm going'.

Gaius opened his eyes, only to realise he was staring out at his own dungeon. His head hurt like a bitch, and his mouth felt like… cashmere! What the hell? He tried to move, but his head seemed stuck in one position, and something cut painfully into his forehead. As he tried to lift his arm, he discovered that he couldn't – and then it dawned on him why. He was strapped into his own contraption! Someone had fixed him to The Rack!

'Hello' said Merlin, his face coming to view from the side. 'I was wondering when you were going to wake up! Or should I say, _we_ were wondering'.

Gaius's eyes followed Merlin's across to his left, and saw a gleeful looking Camilla Everhart. 'Hi, Gaius' she said, as if talking to a person strapped to a torture device was the most natural thing in the world. 'Have a nice nap, did you?'

Gaius tried to curse, tried to yell, but there was something stuffed in his mouth. It smelled like Merlin's cologne. He was gagging on Merlin's neck scarf!

'Nice touch, right?' beamed the boy. 'I mean, I know you like me, so I figured you wouldn't mind having a piece of me in your mouth. Since you're never getting any of the real deal, that is'.

'Mmmf' said Gaius. 'Mmm Mm fff… FFFFffff'

'Do you think he's angry?' Camilla asked Merlin, in a conversational tone.

'I think if he isn't then by the time we're finished with him, he definitely will be' answered Merlin.

Gaius felt hot tears trickle down his face. This definitely beat having his buttocks taped together at high school for the ultimate in humiliating incidents!

Next on Misadventures of Merlin…

Just what do Merlin and Camilla have planned for Gaius?

Will Morgana reveal what she knows – or thinks she knows – about Merlin?

And the Leyland Brothers put on a hell of a show…


	9. Chapter 9

**Episode 9 –**** Ask the Leyland Brothers! **

Gaius had just spent the worst hour of his life bound to his own torture device, having rotten fruit thrown at him, foreign objects inserted up his nose (they'd taken the gag out, thankfully, so he could breath) and his mind invaded by Camilla, who simply sat in front of him, and reeled off all the nasty thoughts she could find in his brain. Most of them had to do with Merlin, of course, but some concerned Morgana, and even the prince himself. Merlin was disgusted. 'So… all those times you asked us to take our shirts off, it wasn't anything to do with medicine, it was just to get an eyeful?'

'No comment' said Gaius.

'And that time Arthur was bitten by the Gryphon – you had him lying in bed, half naked, and kept insisting on giving him sponge baths! What was that about?'

'No comment'

'You're just a grubby, dirty old man, aren't you?' Merlin continued. 'I can't believe I considered you my mentor for so long!'

'I can explain…'

'I'd like to hear it' Merlin said, scowling. 'But right now, the Prince will be back from the forest and I'm supposed to go polish the knights' armour. If you're really, _really_ lucky, I won't tell him about what's gone on here today'.

'Please, Merlin…'

Merlin walked over to Gaius, removed the caterpillar that had taken up residence in the old boy's nostril, and unfastened the strap around his head. Almost immediately, Gaius's head flopped, his chin hitting his chest. He was exhausted.

'Now you know how your victims feel' Merlin told him. 'That's all we really wanted – just to show you what you do to people down here. It's probably nothing on what you _actually_ get up to – I don't have the stomach for _real_ torture – but I think we've humiliated him enough for now, don't you, Camilla?'

'Oh, absolutely' beamed Camilla. 'He'll think twice about taking pleasure in the pain of others. He's thoroughly ashamed of himself'.

'Can you please stop doing that?' Gaius asked, dragging his head up long enough to glare at Camilla. 'You wouldn't like having someone else in your head all the time'.

'Sorry' said the telepathic pixie. 'It just happens sometimes, I don't even have to switch it on'.

'Oh, speaking of which – did you get my message?' Merlin asked her. 'I sent you a kind of signal when you were locked up. To tell you that I was coming'.

'Um… no' said Cam, sheepishly. 'It doesn't really work that way. I have to be in the same room as the person. It was a nice thought, though'.

Gauis let his head hit his chest again. The last thing he needed was to witness _more_ soppy looks between the two young lovebirds, who'd spent the past hour blushing and averting their eyes every time they passed something to each other, and their hands touched. It was utterly nauseating, like watching Bella and Edward spend the majority of Twilight _not_ kissing each other!

'So, um… Camilla… uh… what are you doing later?' Merlin asked, shyly, as he released Gaius's right hand from the Rack.

The Goddess Eris's makeup artist giggled, and blushed (yet again). 'Well, that just depends, doesn't it? When do you get off work?'

Merlin's entire face turned pink and he chuckled like John Travolta's character in Grease. Dear God, thought Gaius, as his young charge pulled him off the Rack and struggled to get him into a fireman's hold, in order to take him back to his chambers. _Please_ don't let them get busy in Merlin's room! The torture he'd been withstanding would be nothing, compared to having to listen to _that_!

'It's so awfully good to see you chaps again' said Uther for the umpteenth time, at brunch. The Leyland Brothers, having been sent an official invitation from the king, had joined him in the formal dining hall, and had spent the last hour or so regaling Uther with stories of their travels. Including a rather interesting tale about Mike getting busy with one of their hypnotism clients, a woman who, ironically, wanted to get over her sex addiction. Mike looked rather red and flustered as his brother told of how the woman had shown up, nine months later, and literally dropped a baby girl in their laps.

'So… what happened to the baby?' Uther asked, leaning forward in his chair. 'Did you find a good home for it?'

'As a matter of fact, we did' said Mike. Turning in his chair, he whistled between his fingers, something Uther had always privately wished he could do. Out of the south door came a young girl, around the age of sixteen, with long dark hair, pasty skin and a sullen expression. She wasn't particularly tall, but thin, and instead of a gown, wore breeches, of all things, beneath a dark shirt and an ankle-length black jacket. She was, in short, the strangest looking girl Uther had ever seen.

'Beatrix, meet King Uther of Come-a-lot' her father was saying. 'He, your uncle and I go way back'.

'Fascinating' droned Beatrix. 'Where's my carrot and apple juice?'

'Beatrix's a vegetarian' explained Mike. 'She doesn't eat anything that comes from the slaughter of animals'.

'My name's Bella' the girl retorted. 'How many times do I have to tell you that, Father?'

'What?' Uther was confused. 'She has two names?'

'No. Her mother named her Beatrix. She's just gotten so wrapped up in the Twilight saga she's convinced she's Bella Swan', Mike explained, looking embarrassed. 'She won't answer to anything else. I'm just hoping that if I call her Beatrix enough, it might sink in'.

'It's a terrible name, and I _hate_ it' stormed the girl, crossing her arms over her chest violently and almost knocking over the water jug in the process.

Mal chuckled. 'Oh, the teenage years! I suppose Arthur gave you just as much trouble?'

Uther shook his head. 'Actually, no. Arthur's been my pride and joy from the day he was born'.

'Sounds like a total suck' muttered Beatrix/Bella, under her breath.

As if he heard someone say his name, Arthur appeared from nowhere, intent on visiting Gwen in her chambers for a little early-morning slap'n'tickle.

'Ah, here he is' said Uther, stopping his son in his rather enthusiastic tracks. 'Come and formally meet my guests, Arthur'.

'I've met Mike and Mal Leyland, Father' said Arthur, barely able to resist rolling his blue eyes. 'I was the one who mentioned I'd seen them, remember?'

'Of course, but you haven't met their daughter, Beatrix'.

'BELLA!'

Everyone at the table, and Arthur, who stood at the door, jumped, startled. The precocious teen finally gave some hint of a smile. Then she looked up at Arthur, and her jaw dropped.

'Bella' said Mal, who'd obviously grown tired of the whole trying-to-get-Beatrix-to-accept-her-name-shtick. 'Meet Uther's son, Arthur'.

'Uh-huh' the girl managed to say, her mouth still wide open, her brown eyes nailed to Arthur's impressive visage.

'Hello' said Arthur, politely. Then to Uther, 'I've got to go… I'm taking Gwen out to brunch'.

'Oh no you're not' said Uther, suddenly. 'I will _not_ have you court a mere servant girl! You're going to show young Beatrix here around the castle, and then take her to lunch'.

Mike and Mal swivelled their heads around to take in their young charge, both convinced she was about to let loose with another ball-tearing cry of "BELLA", but she didn't. A very large, blonde cat by the name of Arthur appeared to have her tongue, and most of the rest of her, in his thrall.

'Oh, but Father…' Arthur started to say, but was shushed.

'I will not hear anything further about it. I'll send a message up to Guinevere to let her know that you have been otherwise detained, and you shall do your duty as Crown Prince of Come-a-lot. That is…'

'To conduct myself with the utmost discretion and dignity', Arthur grumbled. 'Honestly, you weren't saying this a week ago, when some photographer took a photo of Gwen and I in the barn…'

'Enough' bellowed Uther. 'You heard what I said. Guinevere is _not _your future'.

Arthur glanced down at the girl who called herself Bella. 'And she is?' he asked. 'She's a _kid_! Is that even legal?'

Beatrix/Bella pouted. It was not a good look on her. 'I'm not a kid!' she told him. 'I'm sixteen years old!' The petulance didn't last. 'I've already had one boyfriend' she told Arthur. 'He taught me to French kiss. Do you want to see how I can tie a cherry stalk into a knot using only my tongue?'

'Beatrix! Don't be vulgar!' Mike scolded. 'I'm sorry about her; she's rather got boys on the brain, at the moment'.

Arthur gave his father a pleading look, and finding no sympathy, sighed and held his arm out to Beatrix/Bella. 'Maybe… you should go and change before we head into town' he suggested to her.

'Why? What's wrong with what I'm wearing?' she asked, winding her arm around his in a manner she obviously thought was seductive.

'Well… most women in Come-a-lot wear dresses' Arthur floundered. 'Girls, I mean'.

'I don't own many dresses' Beatrix/Bella admitted. 'I like pants. You can climb trees wearing pants. _And_ ride horses. I absolutely _hate_ side-saddle'.

'Oh well… I guess we'll go then, shall we?' Arthur said, shrugging. Whatever. He'd show this surly lass a good time this morning then find Gwen and have roaring-great makeup sex in the afternoon. It might take another fifteen minutes longer to get her in the mood, but a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do…

'Who's this Gwen?' Beatrix/Bella asked as Arthur led her out to the courtyard. 'Is she your girlfriend?'

'Sort of', admitted Arthur. 'She would be, if Father approved. Which he doesn't, as you, no doubt, could tell'.

The girl seemed to be considering this, as she had a contemplative look on her face and said nothing for a few moments. Then she glanced up at him. 'Would it be easier to get away to see Gwen if your father thought you and I were an item, maybe?'

Arthur stopped on the steps to the castle doors, and turned to face her. 'Why would you do something like that for me? You hardly know me'.

She smiled, prettily. 'I scratch your back, you scratch mine'.

He raised a blonde eyebrow. 'What do you want in return?'

'Use of a horse' she said, suddenly. 'And the name of your local gardener, or apothecary. Whoever sells your best weed around here'.

Arthur laughed. 'You're a stoner?'

'I prefer to call myself a recreational smoker, actually'.

Arthur considered the deal. 'And you'll pretend we're out together when really, I'm seeing Gwen and you're off smoking pot and doing… well, whatever?'

The girl nodded. 'Something like that, yeah'.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. 'Don't you think it will be a little weird if you rock up wasted after supposedly spending time with me? Your father will think I'm corrupting you'.

Beatrix/Bella's eyes wandered down from Arthur's face to his neck, then further down to the strip of chest visible between the eyelets on his shirt.

'Well, if he already _thinks_ you're corrupting me…' she started to say, 'Why not just have at it?'

Arthur gaped at her. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'

She put a hand on his chest, and took a step closer. 'I might be'.

'You're only sixteen' Arthur said, gulping. 'I'm nearly 21, and I have a girlfriend…'

'What she doesn't know won't hurt her' said Beatrix/Bella seductively. 'Come on, Arthur! Bet you've always wanted to deflower a virgin…'

'Beatrix!'

'Bella!' she shouted back. 'For Christ's sake… doesn't anybody listen to me?'

Arthur, a little taken aback by her ranting, waved his hands in front of him.

'All right, all right! Bella it is! But you know, I can't…'

Before he could finish his sentence, the girl reached up on tiptoes, grabbed him by the shoulders and planted a kiss on his lips.

'Arthur Pendragon!'

Arthur pushed the manipulative teenager away from him, and wiped his lips on his sleeve. Gwen stood before them, a horrified – and devastated – look on her face.

'I can't believe you'd do something like this! Right in front of the castle, too! I knew you had your doubts about us, but to flaunt another girl in front of me…'

'I didn't…' Arthur tried to tell her. 'She kissed me'.

'Likely story!'

'Guinevere! I'm not interested in her! I'm interested in _you_…' Arthur broke away from Beatrix/Bella and followed Gwen to the servant's quarters, all the while protesting his innocence.

Left alone, Beatrix/Bella smiled to herself. Now to find some of that wicked green stuff, and a horse, to get her out of this dump!

While Camilla and Merlin were making the beast with two backs and Arthur was supposedly showing their daughter/niece a good time, Mike and Mal Leyland, having slipped a sleeping draught into Uther's glass of wine, were making their way down to the cellars.

'I hear he's got Kilgaro, the last dragon hidden down here, somewhere' Mal was saying. 'Chained to a rock'.

'I heard he's got the entire family jewels of ten generations of Pendragons locked down here, somewhere, and that's worth a great deal more to me than some bloody overgrown lizard' Mike replied. 'If we can find the jewels, and sell them, we'll be rich beyond our wildest dreams! No more of this snake-oil salesmen crap! No more peddling dreams for me, Brother. I want to live them'.

'But if the dragon is down here, suppose he's guarding the jewels? How do we get past him then?'

'If Uther chained you down here for twenty years, would you feel obliged to guard his precious jewels? No, I think not'. Mike said. 'And come to think of it, didn't Arthur say there was a dragon in the woods, last night? If Kilgaro was indeed the last dragon, then that would mean…'

'That Kilgaro's gotten loose, somehow' Mal finished for him. 'Well, that's one problem out of the way'.

'And another problem to take its place' said Mike, coming to a door made of iron bars. Beyond it were riches, as Mike had said, well beyond their wildest dreams. If only they had a way to get through the door…

Mike growled and rattled the cage door, in frustration. His brother, in contrast, stood silently, as he usually did when he was hatching a plan.

'Wait' he said, suddenly. 'I think I know how to get the key to that door'.

'How?' Mike asked, turning toward him, his round face flushed. 'I _must_ know'.

'Why, my dear brother' said Mal… 'The power of persuasion, of course'.

Morgana stared out the window, away with the fairies, as usual. It was strange – despite her recent romance with Galahad, all she could think about lately was that skinny, bumbling manservant of Arthur's! Ever since Gwen let it slip that Merlin had the hots for her, his toothy grin had been taking up space in her brain. But it didn't make sense – why would Merlin be interested in her when he already had a girlfriend?

Just as Morgana decided to go and wash her hair, the door to her chambers was flung open and Gwen raged in, eyes streaming with tears. 'I hate Arthur' she declared. 'He just can't help himself!'

Morgana sighed. Didn't anyone in this god damned palace believe in knocking? You can't have a decent daydream around here without being disturbed! She frowned at Gwen. 'Why, what's he done, now?'

'I caught him, red-handed, on the palace steps, making out with some pasty Emo! I mean, seriously, the girl was lucky to have been sixteen years old! Oh, I was warned they like 'em younger and younger these days, but I wasn't expecting _this_'.

'Calm down, Gwen! Arthur adores you. Why would he do something like that? Did he have an explanation?'

'He says she kissed him! Likely story' Gwen huffed, pacing the room with her arms straight as arrows by her sides, fists clenched. 'I feel like hitting something!'

'If Arthur says she kissed him, she probably did' Morgana reasoned. 'Do you know how many girls lust after him in the kingdom? I've been his adopted sister since he was eight years old. I've seen how girls get around him. It's ridiculous. If they saw him in the morning, with his bed hair, and heard him belch at the dinner table, and heard how he bosses around Merlin sometimes, they'd soon change their opinions of him'.

Gwen stopped pacing for a moment, and bit her lip. 'Do you really think he might have been telling the truth?'

Morgana gave Gwen a "what do _you_ think?" look. 'I don't think it, I know it. You're all he ever talks about these days. Go and make up with him, will you? Because when you guys are fighting, he's even _more_ insufferable than when he's happy and in love'.

'Okay' said Gwen, going from furious to nervous excitement in seconds flat. 'I'll admit – I _love_ make-up sex. Especially with Arthur. He…'

'Gwen, Gwen, I don't want to hear it' said Morgana, covering her ears. 'That's way too much information, already'.

As Gwen sailed out the door, Eris sailed in. Or rather, scampered.

'Oh – Morgana, I'm glad I caught you here'.

'What do you want? I thought Uther took you and Camilla prisoner?'

'He did, but Merlin helped us escape. Plus, now Uther's completely sidetracked by his guests, the travelling sideshow he's got going for the feast tonight. Did you know they're going to hypnotise someone at dinner?'

Morgana looked impressed. 'Wonderful! Dinner and a show! So… what can I do for you?'

'Well…' Eris took a step closer, and Morgana could see a wicked glint in the goddess's lavender eyes. 'I was wondering if you'd join me for a spot of mischief on the prince's behalf. He's been wanting to be king for a while, get rid of all those pesky laws involving magic, but he can't do that as long as his father holds the title of king, and since he can't kill him…'

'Why can't he kill him? Arthur's been plotting Uther's untimely demise for years' Morgana mused.

'Oh since he started up with your servant girl he's gone as soft as a pensioner's turd when it comes to affairs of state' Eris grumbled. 'Can't trust him to do anything but sit around with a foolish look on his face, talking about Guinevere 24/7. But then, if you want something done…'

'Do it yourself' Morgana murmured. 'Yes… you're right. Uther must be dethroned. But how?'

Eris walked over to the door and closed it behind her. 'Remember those hypnotists I told you about?'

Merlin sat up and searched for his pants as Camilla smiled happily, lying back in his single bed, totally satisfied. 'Do you really have to go?' she asked.

'Yes' he said, 'Sorry. But Uthur is hosting a feast tonight for the Leylands, including a spot of jousting this afternoon, and I have to go and polish Arthur's armour, water his horse, blah blah blah… I wish I could stay here with you, but I really can't'. He leaned over and kissed her tenderly. 'I'll be back later'.

'I'll be right here' giggled Camilla. 'What else have I got to do? I have no idea where Eris is…'

At that moment, just as Merlin was pulling up his breeches, in burst Camilla's boss.

'Oh, for God's sake, put that away' she said, averting her eyes and holding her hand over them, at the same time. 'I don't need to see it'.

'Well try knocking next time' Merlin grumbled. 'I'm out of here, anyway'.

'Good. Because I need a word with my trusty assistant… as soon as she gets dressed, that is!'

'Trusty assistant, eh?' Camilla commented, as she draped her silk robe over her shoulders and pulled it tight across her chest. 'You weren't singing that tune, down in the dungeon'.

'I'm over that' Eris said, waving a dismissive hand. 'Besides, you were right. I haven't done anything remotely worthy of being called a God since I've been here. But all that's about to change. I'm going to make sure Uther Pendragon never gets to rule Come-a-lot, again'.

'And how are you going to do that?' Camilla asked, getting out of Merlin's bed and searching the floor for her underwear. 'Your magic doesn't seem to work, here'.

'I've got a plan' Eris told her. 'Just you wait and see. The Leylands are going to help me stage a coup, the likes of which no one has seen since, well… the last one in Fiji'.

'Do the Leylands know this?' Camilla asked. 'They're good friends of Uther's. What makes you think they're going to align themselves with his bitter enemy?'

'Because they're greedy, that's why' Eris answered. 'I've had dealings with them in the past. That Mike Leyland would sell his own grandmother's burial plot for a few measly bucks. And the daughter… Jesus , what a piece of work she is'.

'There's a daughter?' Camilla asked. 'I didn't see one when their wagon rolled in, this morning'.

'That's because she has a slight tendency to sleep late' Eris said, smirking. 'Typical teenager, really. Except completely evil. I _knew_ there was something I liked about that girl'.

'What's she like?'

'Bella Swan with a set of big, hairy balls, that's what' Eris replied. 'Oh, don't worry, the balls are metaphorical. Word is, she's already got Arthur in her sights. I overheard a conversation between Morgana and Gwen earlier. The little skank – Beatrix, I mean – actually had the audacity to kiss the prince on the palace steps'.

Everyone knew that laying one's hands on royalty in a public place was a social no-no in Come-a-lot, except on those rare occasions Uther had himself a girlfriend. Somehow the rules of etiquette – even ones that have been around for centuries – didn't seem to apply to the king.

'Wow' said Camilla. 'So what's the plan?'

Eris rolled her eyes, dramatically. 'Honestly, Camilla! Sometimes you have no imagination! What do you get when you cross a distracted king, a hypnotist and a couple of scheming bitches?'

'Hey, I'm not a bitch' Camilla protested.

'I was talking about myself and Beatrix, you nong' said Eris. 'I see the next queen of Come-a-lot as a young Kristen Stewart lookalike, with plenty of attitude to spare'.

Camilla frowned. 'What about Gwen? She's Arthur's one true love'.

'Gwen's going to find herself distracted, soon enough' said Eris, mysteriously. 'Trust me'.

'Hm' said Camilla, doubtfully. 'You've said that before – and nothing good's ever come of it'.

Eris tilted her head to the side. 'You're getting awfully full of yourself since you started humping Big Ears the stable boy! Looks like I might be in the market for a new Girl Friday, soon enough'.

Camilla threw herself at Eris's feet. 'Oh please, please my lady' she begged. 'Don't cast me out. I didn't mean it…'

'Oh, get up and stop slobbering all over my Manolos' said Eris. 'I was just kidding. But I'd get a major attitude adjustment, if I were you. Pretty soon your head's not going to fit through the door'. Speaking of the door, Eris turned and walked back through it, her mind on the sales pitch she was going to hit the Leylands with. Everything was going to run like clockwork, or Eris would damn well make it so!

Arthur was moping about up in his chambers, not really feeling very hungry, although lunch wasn't far away. He wondered briefly what Beatrix/Bella was up to, and whether he'd get into trouble for not escorting her around the palace. His father had not seen him sneak in through the front entrance after Gwen had slammed the door of the servant's quarters in his face, no, the old man was too busy playing gin rummy with his guests and toking on a huge Stogie. Arthur was willing to bet he'd order in a couple of exotic dancers for later on, to thank the Leylands for the night's entertainment. The old boy might have a lot of faults, Arthur thought, but you couldn't say he wasn't generous when the mood struck him. Pity it didn't strike him more often. Especially on the topic of royalty boffing their servants…

Suddenly the door to Arthur's chambers flew open, and Gwen rushed in.

Arthur got to his feet, immediately. He had pulled off his red vest and brown work shirt, and was naked to the waist, planning on climbing into bed and sulking for the remainder of the day. Until now…

'Where is the little slag?' Gwen asked. 'I thought she was with you'.

'In here?' Arthur looked insulted. 'With me? Is that what you really think of me?'

Gwen stopped for a moment and looked around. 'Then where is she?'

'How the hell should I know? Little vixen went off to get herself some quality ganja, and a horse, last I heard from her. Do you know she hates riding side saddle? What a tomboy'.

'Arthur' said Gwen, calming down. '_All _girls hate riding side-saddle'.

'Really?'

'Yes! It's incredibly difficult, for one thing! And what do you do when the horse bolts? Fall backwards and get clobbered by horse-hooves? No thanks! Anyway, don't change the subject'.

Arthur looked puzzled. 'What _was_ the subject, exactly?'

Gwen bit her lip. 'I think I owe you an apology'.

Arthur smirked. 'Really? What for?'

'For jumping to conclusions, earlier. I should have known that you would never knowingly hurt me like that. I had a D&M with Morgana, and she…'

'Oh I see' said Arthur, suddenly. 'You couldn't come to the conclusion that I wasn't lying to you, by yourself. You had to have someone point it out to you. Great, Gwen. That's just great'.

'That's not what I mean! I…'

'Forget it, Gwen. If you can't trust me, then what's the point?'

'Arthur…' Gwen pleaded, tears running down her cheeks. 'I love you'.

'You've got a fine way of showing it, haven't you?' the prince ranted. 'You'd rather accuse me of cheating on you with some little Bella Swan wannabe, than face up to your feelings about me! You know, Beatrix might be a manipulative, scheming little troll, but at least she's honest about what she likes and doesn't like'.

'And she likes _you_, from what I saw' Gwen managed to remind him, amidst her tears. 'I just don't have a chance against someone like her, do I? After all, her father and yours are buddies from Eton! I'm sure Uther would much rather you marry a Leyland than a lowly servant girl, like me'.

'_Marry_? Beatrix? You've _got_ to be kidding, don't you?'

'You can bet that's what your father's thinking' Gwen told him. 'She might be young, but she's of noble blood, and that's far more acceptable to Uther than his only son and heir marrying a commoner, much less a palace servant'.

'Gwen' Arthur crossed the wide expanse between them in a few short steps, and tilted her chin up to face him. 'The only woman I'm even considering marrying is you. Even if I have to wait until my father is dead and buried, it's going to happen. Got it?'

Gwen blinked away her tears and managed a smile. 'Yes, My Lord' she said, happily.

'Now come here' Arthur ordered, 'And give your Lord a big, sloppy kiss'.

Gwen giggled. 'Oh Arthur' she said. 'Gross!'

Meanwhile, Morgana had gone looking for Merlin. She simply _had_ to know, one way or another, what his feelings were. It was driving her bat-shit, sitting around all day, combing her hair and looking out the window like some damned Rapunzel waiting for her man to show up. Sure, he had a girlfriend, but if his true feelings lay somewhere else, wasn't it kinder to Camilla to dump her now, rather than later?

Knocking on Merlin's door, Morgana tried to appear calm and in control, but it was hard. She knew now what she wanted. Her destiny was to let Merlin unlock her chastity belt. Why else would Gwen have slipped up and told her the truth? It was fate, plain and simple!

So when Camilla opened the door in her best lacy camisole and knickers, Morgana almost fainted in shock. She didn't know the pair had gotten that serious with each other!

'Yes?' asked Camilla. 'Oh… Hello, Morgana. Were you looking for Gaius?'

'Actually, I was looking for Merlin' Morgana replied, once she'd recovered from the shock of the knowledge that Merlin and Camilla were lovers. She couldn't, however, recover from the stab of jealousy she felt, just thinking about it!

'He's out, preparing Arthur's armour for the jousting tourney later' Camilla informed her. 'Was there something I could do for you?'

'Uh… No, it's fine' Morgana lied. 'I'll just come back later'.

'Okay' said Camilla. 'I'll let him know you were looking for him'.

You do that, Morgana thought, bristling on the inside. Unless I get to him, first!

Arthur won the jousting tourney, of course. Gwen wondered whether there was any real point to holding one, since everyone knew Arthur was going to win. She smiled to herself, thinking about the make-up sex they'd had earlier, and blushed, then remembered she was sitting among lots of people who might wonder what the hell she was thinking, so she decided to go to Arthur's tent, just outside the arena to congratulate him in private. When she got there, a most unwelcome sight greeted her. Beatrix, or Bella, or whatever her name was, was standing outside the tent pigsucking a hand-rolled joint and looking rather pleased with her self. 'You're Gwen, right?'

'Yes. And you're the skank with her hands all over my man this morning' Gwen replied, icily. 'I've a good mind to tell the king you've been shoplifting. He'll have you in the stocks, in no time'.

'Just on your word?' sneered Beatrix. 'I doubt that, somehow. He's not too keen on you two shagging like rabbits. Which is where I come in'.

Gwen frowned. 'Why would you want to help us?'

'An alibi, you daft twat! I tell our fathers that Arthur and I are seeing each other, they'll be so happy, they'll bend over backwards to give us alone-time. Then, you can sneak away whenever you get the urge – and I'll bet that's pretty often, with that gawjuss, _hawt_ piece of meat in there…'

'His name's Arthur, and he's worth more to me than just what he can give me in bed' Gwen replied. 'But go on'.

Beatrix rolled her brown eyes; then continued. 'Anyway, Arthur's my cover, all right?'

'Cover for what?'

Beatrix leaned in close. 'Don't tell anyone, but I'm in a gang'.

Gwen's eyes widened. 'What sort of gang?'

'A girl gang! Don't tell my dad though, 'cause he'd go mental, and want to move again. We're always moving. A week is the longest we've stayed in one area, and now I've made friends here, I don't want to leave. But if he found out what we've been doing…'

'What _have_ you been doing?' Gwen asked, intrigued.

'Well, our gang's called the Pussycat Molls, see, and…'

But she couldn't finish her sentence because Arthur walked out of the tent, free of his chain mail and looking hot and sweaty, just the way Gwen liked him. She put a possessive arm around her man and glanced at Beatrix/Bella meaningfully. 'We'll have to continue this conversation later' she said. 'Nice to meet you, Bella'.

Beatrix/Bella's hand-rolled joint fell out of her mouth as she watched Arthur and Gwen join the festivities inside the arena. Did she just call me Bella? Maybe she's not so bad, after all…

Mike and Mal Leyland waited until Uther had finished his fourth shot of Jack Daniels on the rocks, and was nice and relaxed. There was an hour to go until the dinner feast and official demonstration of Mike's hypnosis skills, but they couldn't risk trying to place the king under hypnotic suggestion with so many witnesses. Besides, there was the unfortunate side effect of putting the rest of the audience under, as well. It required a delicate balance of skill and organisation to pull off a show like those of famed hypnotists around the world – the kind who make random audience members cluck like chickens. No, this was a delicate operation, indeed!

Mike sat in front of a sleepy looking Uther and pulling out a watch on a fob chain, swung it in front of the king's eyes. 'You are getting veeeeeery sleepy…'

Morgana spotted Merlin in the crowd. He was standing by the cake stall, sampling some of the local bakery's new range of snot blocks. Despite the fact that he had custard dribbling down his chin, Morgana thought he looked quite cute. Handsome, even. Oh crap, she thought. What is happening to me?

'Merlin' she said as she approached, and smiled as Merlin almost dropped the vanilla slice in alarm. 'I didn't do it!' he cried.

'Didn't do what?'

'Uh… whatever I'm being blamed for?'

'You're not being blamed for anything, Merlin' Morgana laughed. 'Actually… I was looking for you because I wanted to talk to you'.

Merlin shoved the last of the snot block into his mouth, chewed a couple of times and swallowed it whole. In seconds, his face had turned from a pale grey to a faint purple, and he was holding his throat.

'Oh dear!' said Morgana, panicking. Then she remembered something she'd seen the Lifestyle Channel, and, standing behind Merlin, wrapped her arms around his skinny torso, and performed the Heimlich manoeuvre on him. She had to do it three or four times before the last of the slice fell out of his mouth onto the ground, and the poor guy collapsed beside the mess, tears streaming from his eyes. 'Thank you' he tried to tell Morgana, before passing out.

Gaius, Arthur and Gwen ran over. 'What's wrong with Merlin?' Gaius asked. 'Is he sleeping on the job, again?'

'He almost choked on a vanilla slice' Morgana informed him.

Arthur had to stifle a laugh. 'How do you choke on a _vanilla slice_? Although I suppose, if anyone's going to manage it, it'll be Merlin'.

Gaius checked Merlin's vitals, then took a small bottle out of the little drawstring bag he always carried. 'What's that?' asked Gwen.

'Smelling salts' Gaius replied. 'It'll wake him right up'. He held the open bottle under Merlin's nose, and the boy sat up like he'd been hit with a bolt of lightning. 'What?' he exclaimed. 'Who? Where? When?'

'You've had a nasty spell, Merlin' said Gaius. 'You nearly choked to death. Morgana here probably saved your life'.

'Huh?'

'You don't remember any of it?' Morgana asked. 'Probably a good thing'. She turned to Gaius. 'You're probably really busy, with the festivities and all. Why don't I see him to his chambers?'

'Okay' said Gaius. 'I do have to see to a few of the villagers, as a matter of fact'.

Morgana and Arthur helped Merlin up, and saw him to his room. Once he was laid out on his bed, Uther's ward turned to his son.

'I'll see to him' she promised. 'I needed to speak to him about something, anyway'.

'Okay' said Arthur, shrugging. 'I'll see you at dinner?'

Morgana nodded. 'Oh' she said, 'If you see Camilla, could you please stall her? I really need to talk to Merlin, and frankly, it's none of her business'.

Arthur nodded. 'Be careful, Morgana' he said, with a grin. 'Any more subterfuge and you'll have me curious. What do you have to talk to Merlin about so urgently?'

'That would be none of your business, Arthur Pendragon' said Morgana, with a Mona Lisa Smile. Arthur walked to the door and just before closing it, spotted his adoptive sister take Merlin by the hand. Realising the door hadn't been closed yet, Morgana looked up. 'Out, Arthur' she commanded.

Arthur closed the door, and went back outside to find Gwen.

'Merlin'

He opened his eyes slowly to a blurry vision of Morgana sitting on the side of his bed. 'Morg…'

'Don't try to talk just yet' she advised him. 'I was just worried. You fell asleep again. I had to wake you up. You hit your head pretty hard when you passed out, earlier. I thought you might have concussion.'

'I'm fine' he assured her. 'Where's Camlla?'

'Busy' Morgana said, quickly. 'Merlin… I need to ask you something, and I need you to answer me, honestly. Can you do that?'

Merlin tried to sit up, but Morgana pushed him back onto the pillows. 'Just relax' she said. 'So, will you answer my question?'

'That depends what it is' Merlin said, cryptically.

Morgana bit her lip. 'See… the thing is… I've been told… well, it's just a theory, really, but you never know with these things…'

"Morgana?'

'Yes?'

'Spit it out'. Merlin smiled at her. 'You look really nervous'.

'Do you like me, Merlin? I mean, are you in love with me? Because it would be okay if you were…'

Merlin's brow puckered, puzzled. 'Where would you have gotten that idea?'

'Um… Nowhere'.

Merlin narrowed his blue eyes. 'Are you sure?'

'So it's not true, then?' asked Morgana, feeling a funny sinking feeling in her stomach.

'Well… no, but that's not to say that I don't think you're beautiful! I do, I just… don't want to do anything about it. I'm with Camilla, you see…'

'Of course' said Morgana, struggling to make sure her voice didn't betray her feelings. 'I don't know how I could have gotten it so wrong…'

'Are you okay, Morgana?' Merlin asked, concerned. 'Your voice has gone all funny'.

He looked so concerned for her, and so sweet, that Morgana just couldn't stand it. She threw her hands over her face and burst into tears. 'It's never going to happen' she managed to sob. 'I should just accept it'.

'What's never going to happen?'

'What do you think? My chastity belt, you buffoon! It's never going to come off! I've been waiting my entire life for a man good enough to crack the damn thing open, but so far they've all been lecherous pretenders, who've been too scared of Uther to try and save me from eternal virginity! Galahad included!'

'I thought he was right in with a chance' said Merlin. 'Why would you think I was the one? I'm not even a knight'.

'You don't have to be a knight. Just brave' said Morgana, wiping her eyes. 'Arthur's practically my brother, plus he's got Gwen, and Galahad's not really my type. Gawain's a complete tosser, and Lancelot's gone – somewhere. Plus he's lusting after Gwen as well! Why won't any man fight for _me_? Am I so terrible that no one wants me?'

'Of course not' said Merlin. 'You're beautiful, like I said'.

Morgana was sure she heard hesitation in his voice. 'But?'

'But…' Merlin said, biting his lip, 'There _is_ just one little thing'.

'I knew it!' said Morgana. 'What?'

'Your pet dragon' said Merlin, taking Morgana by surprise. 'After most of the knights heard that you'd set him on Mab and Henry, not to mention the king himself, they've been a little… well, reluctant to approach you. You're not exactly down-to-earth, you know. Plus they're kind of scared shitless of being turned into a dragon shish-kebab'.

Morgana sighed with relief. 'Is that all? Thank god! I was starting to think I had some major flaw, like bad breath or BO or something'.

'Of course not' said Merlin. 'But the dragon sure as hell does'.

That did the trick. Morgana wiped her eyes and laughed. 'Okay' she said, 'I'll send him on a long errand! I just really want a boyfriend. You understand, right, Merlin?'

'Uh… well, maybe not the boyfriend part, but I get that you're lonely'.

Morgana leaned forward and kissed Merlin on the cheek. 'You're a doll' she told him. 'And I'm officially cured'.

Merlin sat up on his bed after she left, his cheeks warm from being kissed by the gorgeous Morgana. Cured? He thought. Cured of what?

The dinner crowd were getting rowdy. The main course had been served and there was no sign of the Leyland Brothers, nor any indication that they were going to put on a show. Uther, who was more absent minded than usual lately, was too busy counting his peas to realise his guests of honour were missing, until Gawain got up and whispered in his ear.

'That's what this whole dinner is about, Sire' he finished. 'Remember?' He couldn't believe the state of Come-a-lot's king. The guy was acting like monkeys had performed a half-arsed lobotomy on him. Counting his peas and reciting (in an off-key voice) "Sing a Song of Sixpence". Gawain was starting to wonder if the king had been at Gaius's secret stash of happy plants!

'Ah, here they are' said Galahad, tugging on Gawain's sleeve. 'The Leylands have arrived'.

'Finally' exclaimed Gawain. 'I was starting to think we'd have an angry mob on our hands'.

The slightly disgruntled (but not angry) mob settled down once Mal Leyland started his spiel about hypnosis and how his brother could make grown men suck their thumbs and crawl along the floor like babies. Then he asked for a volunteer from the audience.

Of course this had to be the point where Uther put his hand up. 'Oh, me, me' he said, like an excited five year old. 'Hypnotise me'.

'We already have, you moron' said Mike Leyland, from between clenched teeth.

'We can't do it again, can we?' Mal asked, in a low voice. 'Won't that bugger up the first suggestion?'

'What do you mean, we?' Mike hissed. 'And yes, anything's possible. I am not going to publically hypnotise the king! Who knows what he could divulge while under? Like the fact that we asked him for the location of the keys to his dungeon safe!'

'Ssh' warned Mal. 'The crowd are settling down. They'll hear you'.

'I think you might prefer to sit and watch, My Lord' said Mike, quickly. 'After all, we wouldn't want you giving away any state secrets, now, would we?'

Uther smiled mindlessly. 'Oh, yes, of course. I forgot about that'.

Over to the left of the king's table, Eris had heard this comment and was filthy mad. Those two-bit conmen, she thought, bristling. They're no better than a couple of amateur magicians! They promised me… Eris was getting so mad that all her plans to dethrone the king had been dashed that she didn't realise she was glowing a bright lilac colour. People on either side of her turned and stepped back, shocked. A few women started to scream like obsessed Edward Cullen fangirls. Uther turned to see what the commotion was, and then all of a sudden, something even stranger than the purple hue started to happen. All of Eris's anger and frustration about her complete magical impotence in Come-a-lot seemed to ignite a power in the Goddess that was like watching pure lightning strike. People averted their eyes, threw arms across their faces, even ducked under the tables. Uther didn't, though. He was staring up at the Goddess with wonder on his face. He looked like a kid at Christmas time, waking up to find half of Toys R Us sitting under his Christmas tree. 'Pretty' he said, putting his hands together and smiling inanely. 'Pretty like a star'.

'What the hell happened to your old man?' asked Gwen of Arthur. 'He's acting like a two year old'.

'I don't know'

Uther stood up and moved toward Eris. 'I like the pretty lights' he said, his eyes growing wider the closer he got.

'Father' cried Arthur, worried about what would happen when his old man got close enough to touch the electrified Goddess. Gawain bravely threw himself at the King, as he was the closest knight at hand, but Uther just swatted him away like a fly. Arthur stared at the phenomenon, shocked to the core. What the hell was going on? What had that third rate deity done to his old man? And while we're on the subject, what was happening to _her_?

The young prince's eyes scanned the room. The only people not watching Uther were watching the bright, dazzling form of Eris, who was not only shining but floating about thirty centimetres from the floor. Camilla, sitting beside Merlin, was the only person who didn't seem surprised. Arthur left his seat and rushed over to her. 'You know what's going on, don't you?' he asked, through clenched teeth, as he grabbed her upper arm and pulled her to her feet. 'Don't you?'

'Yes' Camilla admitted. 'I know what's happening'.

'Well – what is it? And more importantly, how can we stop it? My old man's acting like a five year old. He can't stay like that. It'll _totally_ ruin St Patricks' Day'.

Camilla sighed. 'Eris has found her powers. I don't know how – someone here must have started believing in her. That's the only way her abilities can work in an all Christian environment. If we were all pagans, she'd be unstoppable. But we're not… or rather, _you're_ not'.

'So… who started believing in her?'

Camilla glanced over at Uther, who was standing mere inches away from the still catatonic, shimmering Eris. Every now and then a burst of light like a lightning strike would go through her, making her shake.

'What's that light?' Arthur wanted to know. 'And what's she doing to my father?'

'He started believing in her' Camilla explained. 'I'm not sure how, but I'm guessing hypnotic suggestion might have had something to do with it'.

'Hypnotic…' Arthur started to say, and turned to face the Leyland Brothers, who looked like they wanted to be anywhere but here. The future king of Come-a-lot strode over to his father's former Eton room-mates.

'Did one of you two hypnotise my father and turn him into the village idiot? Speak up, now, or you'll be both forever being holding your pieces – between your hands, in your coffins'.

Mike closed his mouth and stared down at his feet, but Mal was more forthcoming. 'We uh… just wanted him to have a good time' the pudgy illusionist stammered. 'He didn't like our friend Eris, so we thought we'd uh… fix the situation. We didn't think we were harming him'.

'You two could have done untold damage' Arthur raged. 'What if this can't be undone? I'm not having my old man grinning like a cretin and singing nursery rhymes for the rest of his days! Fix it! Now!'

'Arthur' Gwen said, grabbing her love by the arm. 'Can we talk?'

'Not now, Gwen. Can't you see I'm busy' Arthur snapped.

Gwen narrowed her eyes. 'Talk to me now, or miss me forever'.

Arthur could see that she was serious, and allowed her to drag him out of earshot. 'Honestly, Gwen, this is not a good time' he started to say, but she put a finger up to his lips to shush him. 'Think about it, Arthur' she said. 'Your dad is truly happy for the first time in years! I haven't seen him smile so much since Ke&ha sang to him and sat on his lap! Do you really want to turn him into the grumpy, combative tyrant we've always known, or do you want to see him innocent and happy, forever?'

Arthur chewed on this for a few minutes. Tortured by indecision, he glanced around at everyone in the room. Most were gazing in wonder at Eris, but the others were watching their king, probably wondering what the hell he was on, and where they could get some.

Finally he looked back at Gwen. 'What if he stays like that forever? What if he no longer recognises me as his son?'

'Ask him if he knows who you are' said Gwen. 'He's right over there'.

Arthur approached his father, hesitantly. 'Father?'

'Arthur' said Uther, in a daze of excitement. 'Look at the pretty light! And the pretty lady! She looks all lit up, like a firefly…'

'Yes, Father. It's… very pretty' said Arthur. Turning back to Gwen, he winced. 'I can't leave him like that'.

'Well, if you can figure out how to change him back to his old, grumpy, hate-filled self, go ahead' said Gwen, shrugging. 'But he's happy for the first time in _years,_ Arthur. And… this could be a good thing. Not only for him, but for everyone! What would you prefer; a cranky, warmongering old man with no sense of humour, who has people executed for the slightest thing, _let alone_ using magic – or a peaceful, happy father, who finds the simplest things in life a joy? Think about it, Arthur. Really'.

Just as Arthur was about to answer, Merlin interrupted the silence. 'Uh… just in case no one's noticed, the Leyland Brothers have taken off! They're gone'.

Arthur, Gwen, Morgana and the knights of the Kind-of-Round-but-Slightly-Oblong-table all glanced at the centre of the room at the same time. It was true. The Leyland Brothers were gone. All that was left in the place where their trick table had been were a few spilled gems…

Next…

Will justice catch up with The Leyland Brothers?

Will Arthur have his father restored to his normal, narrow-minded self?

And will Gaius and Morgana ever find true love? (Although, not with each other, because that would be both creepy and wrong… not to mention gross!).

Stay tuned for the final instalment of The Misadventures of Merlin, where all your questions (and hopefully mine) will be answered…


	10. Chapter 10

**Episode 10**

**It's a wrap!**

'What the hell?' said Arthur, running into the middle of the room and kneeling to pick up the precious stones in the middle of the dining room floor. 'These are from the Pendragon vault! Those guys might be hypnotists, but they're also thieves!'

He waved at his knights. 'Go and see if you can stop them at the gates. If not, get a posse together and we'll go looking for them. Who knows how much of my family's personal fortune they've stolen'.

'Right, Sire' said Gawain, and hurried outside with Galahad and some of the others, to see if they could catch the Leylands before they left the confines of the castle.

'I have to go' said Arthur to Gwen. 'This is my family's future at stake'.

'I know' said Gwen. 'You go. I'll take care of Uther for you'.

Arthur gave her a funny look, and Gwen frowned. 'Come on! What do you think I'm going to do? I'll make sure he doesn't get into any trouble'.

'Okay' he said, kissing her forehead. 'I'll see you when I get back'.

Morgana was standing staring at the Goddess Eris, trying to figure out what the hell was going on, when someone tapped her on the shoulder. It was Lancelot.

'Oh! Where have you been?' she asked him. 'Gwen's over there'.

'I'm not looking for Gwen' said Lancelot, training his seriously hot dark eyes on the king's ward. 'She no longer has feelings for me. I'm interested in someone else…'

Morgana was completely oblivious to the very obvious point he was trying to make. 'Well, if it's Camilla, she's with Merlin, now' she told him. 'And Eris is… well, you can see what's going on with her. I'm not entirely sure _what_ it is, but she's been catatonic for the past ten minutes, so…'

'I'm not interested in Eris, you goose' said Lancelot, a corner of his mouth turning up in a charming smirk.

'Then who?' Morgana asked. 'This isn't exactly the best time, you know. Uther's lost his mind, Eris is buzzing like a mozzie sapper, the Leyland Brothers have taken off with God only knows how much of the king's personal fortune, and I'm suffering from the world's worst case ofchafing _from this_ _God damn chastity belt!'_

Morgana's voice had risen a few notches over that last sentence, and now it was her that the entire room was staring at, not Eris, or Uther, who was busy counting the tiny little sparks that were erupting from the surface of the goddess's arms.

Lancelot laughed nervously, and glanced around the room. 'Um… you seem to have gotten everyone's attention there, Morgana'.

'You know what? I don't care' she announced. 'I've spent the past twenty odd years trapped in this thing, and I'm sick of it! I want out! I want to be normal! And for Christ's sake, I WANT A MAN TO MAKE LOVE TO ME!'

This was said with a petulant stamp of the foot, as if to drive the point home, not that the point needed any embellishment. Lancelot grabbed Morgana by the upper arm (as dozens of the kingdom's most eligible men volunteered their "services"), pulling her out of the room, where she wrenched out of his grip and glared at him.

'How dare you? I'm the king's ward! You can't just throw me over a shoulder and whisk me off to your cave, you know'.

Lancelot grinned, and fumbled in the pocket of his jacket. 'I think you'll change your mind when you see what I have, here' he said.

'What is that?'

He held out his hand, and opened his fingers. On his palm sat a gold key.

'Give you one guess what this opens?'

Morgana's jaw dropped. 'Shut the fuck up' she breathed. 'No way!'

'Yes way'.

'How did you find it?'

'Remember that old chest in your father's room; that he gave to Uther before he died – the one with his initials on the lid?'

Morgana nodded. 'What about it?'

'I went down to the basement when I heard that the Leylands had looted the place, and they'd left the door open. They also left whatever they couldn't take with them in a hurry. Including that chest. And in it, in a compartment under the lid, was this key. As soon as I saw it, I knew what it was for'.

Morgana looked up at the tall, dark, exotically handsome knight with a knowing smile. 'You know what?' she asked him. 'I'm rethinking the whole caveman thing'.

Lancelot grinned, widely. 'Are you sure, my lady? Might be a bumpy ride'.

'I don't care' she declared. 'It'll be worth it'.

With that, Lancelot scooped up the king's ward, throwing her over his shoulder in a fireman's hold, and headed up the stairs for Morgana's chambers!

The Leylands had undoubtedly left the scene the moment they realised the spotlight was no longer on them. Arthur led his troops to the city's gates, and gave orders for them to split up and search different areas of the surrounding fields and woods. He took his father's personal guards with him to search the area of the forest where they'd first come across the old, brightly coloured gypsy wagon the previous night.

'Lancelot says they've taken whatever they could carry' he told Gawain, Galahad and Percival. 'Which means that old gypsy caravan could be crammed with loot! If you come across them, put them under arrest, and send up a flare so I can find you'.

'Uh, Sir?' said Percival, the newest addition to the king's personal guard. 'What if they try to hypnotise us?'

Arthur rolled his eyes. 'They're not sorcerers, Percival, they're common thieves and confidence men. Okay, they know a few handy mind control tricks, but they need time to work those. They can't just click their fingers and have you under their spell'.

'But how do you know…'

'Let's go' ordered Arthur. 'Before those charlatans make off with the Pendragon family jewels'.

Gwen took the befuddled king gently by the arm. 'Sire' she said, 'Would you like to come and see the elephant?'

'Oh yes!' said Uther, excitedly. 'Elephants have big, long trunks. And long memories'.

'Yes, they do' said Gwen, feeling like she was talking to a toddler, not a grown man. 'And this one's extra special, because he's in your garden, and you get to stare at him for as long as you want…'

Merlin glanced around the room, looking for Camilla. After Arthur had confronted her about her boss, the poor girl had rushed off in tears. She probably thinks we blame her for all of this, Merlin thought. Which is silly, because Eris is the God, not Camilla!

He looked over at the Goddess, who was still standing in the one place like a neon coat rack, emitting sparks and a low humming noise. Merlin turned to Gaius. 'What should we do about her? I mean, we can't leave her like that'.

'She's attached to Uther' Gaius explained. 'At least, that's what I think has happened. She entered a part of his mind that has never been tampered with before, rather like a kind of parasite. Who knows what will happen to the both of them if she retreats? His body might not be able to cope with the stress without its host'.

'So… she's supposed to just stay like that, until she either dies, or he does?'

'I'll look into it' Gaius assured him. 'I'm not promising miracles, but I might be able to reverse what's been done, if I have the right spell, and materials'.

'But why would you want that?' Asked a random villager; a middle-aged, rotund female, who was standing close enough to Gaius to overhear their conversation. 'The King is a tyrant. He's held all of us in bondage for twenty years – ever since the Great Purge – and woe betide anyone who practices magic!'

'She's right, you know' said Villager No.2, a stout man with a reddish complexion. 'Why should we have to put up with his crap any longer, if he can stay in a child-like state, and be happy? We all know Arthur would make a far better king. That goes without saying. And the kingdom deserves a better king… a _fairer_ king'.

'And Arthur's as fair as they come' joked a younger, albeit fatter, version of the first villager. Her friends tittered along with her, like a pack of lusty schoolgirls cooing over Robert Pattinson.

'The kingdom _deserves_ magic' someone yelled from the back of the room.

'And lower taxes!' shouted someone else.

Gaius tried to get the villagers to pipe down, but they were obviously of a single mind about this. Before long, they were stomping their feet and chanting "Make Arthur King! Make Arthur King!"

'All right, all right' Gaius shouted. 'I'll speak to His majesty when he gets back from his mission! But for now, I think it's time you all went home, and got a good night's sleep. We may have a big day tomorrow – one of the biggest in recent history, if Arthur agrees to don the crown'.

That did it. A huge cheer went up as the townsfolk filed out of the palace doors, heading home with full bellies and high hopes of a new dawn, and an end to Uther's tyranny. Gwen headed out the back door to escort the confused royal back to his chambers, but found the king in a startling state of undress, pissing into the concrete fountain. She rushed back in and told Merlin, who promised to try to get Uther to put some clothes on and come back inside.

After he'd seen to Uther (which took some doing – the king wanted a bedtime story before he fell asleep) Merlin went to look for Camilla. He found her packing her bags in the room she'd shared with Eris.

'What are you doing?' he asked her, confused. 'I thought you and I…'

'Face it Merlin' she said, sadly, 'We're too different. I'm a pixie, I practice magic for a living, and if your physician manages to restore Eris and Uther to their former selves, and your king ever finds out I have magic, he'll kill me. This is not a safe place for me'.

'Do you think it's a safe place for _me_?' asked Merlin; then slapped a hand over his mouth. The only time he'd used his magic in the last week was to save Arthur and Uther from the dragon, and thankfully they hadn't figured out that it was him. He was almost too afraid to use his gift, afraid that one of the many strangers staying at the palace might find out his secret. He'd wanted to tell Camilla, but never quite got around to it. Until now.

'You've got magic, too, haven't you' she said, not looking surprised at all. 'Come with me, Merlin. Let's go away together. Leave this place. The minute Uther is back to his old self, you'll have to keep hiding who you really are! Do you honestly want that?'

'I don't have much choice' said Merlin, sadly. 'My destiny is tied to Arthur's. I have to stay here, to help him become king, and protect him'.

Camilla took Merlin by the hands, and stared up at him, her large blue eyes filling with tears. 'Then I fear it is goodbye' she said. 'Because I can no longer work for Eris. We had a fight in the dungeons and now it's all weird between us. If Gaius does manage to undo whatever has been done, life will not be worth living, as her subordinate. I must leave, and never come back'.

Merlin felt tears prick his eyes. 'Will I ever see you again?'

Camilla shook her head. 'I don't know. Maybe? In a few years' time, when all this has blown over…'

'A few _years_? So much could have changed by then' Merlin pleaded. 'Please, Camilla! Reconsider…'

'I can't' she said. 'I'm sorry'.

And the young warlock watched his new love leave the room, and the castle, for the last time.

The posse headed west, along the border of one of Britain's great lakes for twenty or so miles, but there was no sign of the gold, green and blue gypsy caravan, or of the devious Leyland Brothers. Arthur growled and thumped his thigh with his fist in frustration. 'They _can't_ have just disappeared into thin air' he exclaimed. 'Where the hell are they?'

Suddenly a red flare lit up the night sky.

'It's Marcus' said Galahad. 'He had the red ones'.

'They've found them' Arthur stated, barely able to contain his relief. 'Let's go'.

They rode in the general direction of the flare until they came to a clearing by the side of the lake. The gypsy caravan was surrounded by a ten man posse of the king's strongest and best knights and guards. There was no sign of the brothers but it was a fair bet they were holed up inside.

'If you don't come out we're going to start hitting your caravan with all the artillery we've got' warned Arthur, in a loud, authoritative voice. 'So you might as well give up, now'.

'They're not there, you know'.

Arthur and his men turned toward the voice, but could see nothing. They glanced at each other, confused.

'I'm up here, losers'.

Arthur looked up. Dangling almost directly above his head was the Leyland's rebellious young daughter/niece, Beatrix. Before Arthur could warn her to be careful, she let go of the branch and dropped to the ground, landing on her feet like a cat.

'Wow' said Arthur. 'That was almost impressive'.

'Thanks' said Beatrix. 'I'm pretty flexible, too', she added, winking at him.

Arthur bit his lip and wished away a blush he knew was creeping up his neck and staining his cheeks. 'That's a little _too _much information' he told her, as he dismounted his horse. 'Enough of the innuendo, by the way. You're a kid, and I'm spoken for'.

'All right, all right' Beatrix groaned. 'I get the hint! But it's _so_ much fun baiting you'.

'So where are they, then?' asked Galahad. 'Do you know where we can find them?'

'Maybe'.

'What do you mean, maybe?' asked Arthur, impatiently. 'Do you know, or don't you?'

'I'm not just going to give them up that easily' Beatrix said. 'I want something, first'.

Arthur rolled his eyes. 'You can have a horse, and all the hydroponically grown pot your little heart desires. Okay? Where are your father and uncle?'

'I've got all the pot I could want or need' she shrugged. 'But there is something I _do _want'.

'Spit it out' Arthur commanded. 'We don't have time for this. It's getting cold out'.

'A kiss' said Beatrix/Bella. 'From the future king of Come-a-lot'.

'You already got one of those' said Arthur, embarrassed. His fellow knights were busy making kissing noises and "woo-hooing" and generally acting like fourteen year old schoolboys. 'Remember? Front steps of the palace? Which, by the way, got me in a world of trouble with…'

'Gwen, I know' finished Beatrix. 'But we're not going to tell her, are we, guys? This is just for posterity. _And _for all those times I'm lying in bed thinking about you'. She grinned. 'You wouldn't deprive a girl of a harmless fantasy now, would you, Prince Arthur?'

Arthur sighed, turned and yelled at his troops to shut the hell up.

'All right' he said, with an air of resignation. 'Come here'.

'It has to be on the lips' she told him. 'Or I won't give you the time of day… sorry, night'.

'I can't believe I'm doing this again' Arthur muttered as he leaned in.

'Again? What do you mean, _again_? _I'm_ the one who kissed you, last time' she reminded him. 'And you wiped your mouth right after, like I dirtied you up, or something! That was less than ideal, I can tell you'.

'I'm sorry' said Arthur. 'Do you want me to kiss you, or not?'

She grinned and puckered up.

'Close your eyes' said Arthur.

'No way. You could get your horse to lick my face, or something!'

'Never even crossed my mind' lied Arthur, suppressing a grin.

'Will you just get on with it? Have I got bad breath, or something?'

'Yeah, go on Sire' Galahad crowed. 'Kiss her'.

That started the whole bloody lot of them, chanting "Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her", so in order to get them to shut up, Arthur pulled the lanky girl into a tight, Gone With the Wind embrace, and gave her the best swoon-inducing, panty-creaming, heart-stopping snog he could muster, at a time like this anyway, with all his mates bearing witness. It was hugely embarrassing, but it had to be done. When he finally let go of her, the girl was so stunned you could knock her over with a feather.

'Acceptable?' Arthur asked, trying to ignore the pungent taste of marijuana in his mouth. What, did the girl _chew_ the damn leaves, or something?

'Yes' said the girl, in a dreamy voice. '_Very_ acceptable'.

'Good… so where are they?'

To Arthur's dismay, the girl shrugged. 'I have no idea. I just jumped on the front of the wagon while they were setting up for the night's entertainment, and took off. Oh, I threw their bags out the door, let me tell you. Those two freaks can find their own way back to London – _if_ that's where they're going. They could be anywhere'.

Arthur bristled, trying to control his irritation. 'So you're telling me, you don't know where they've got to, and you made me kiss you, for nothing?'

'That's about the size of it' the girl said, smirking. But when she saw the look on the prince's face, she scurried up the nearest tree with the agility of a squirrel, before he could lay a hand on her, to throttle her!

'Beatrix, get your butt down here before I come up there after you, and wring your scrawny little neck' Arthur hissed.

'Wait' the girl said, from her perch on the lowest branch, which was still too high for Arthur to reach without climbing up there, himself. 'Don't you want to know where all the loot is?'

'What?'

'They didn't take it with them, if that's what you want to know' she practically sang. 'It's in the caravan, doofus! All of it. Take it. Heck, take the caravan too, if you want'.

'What about you?' asked Arthur, as his men converged on the van to check if what she was saying was true. 'You're a kid, on your own. And you took off with your father's stolen treasure. If he finds you, he's not going to be a happy camper'.

'No shit, Sherlock' said Beatrix. 'That's why I'm not planning on being around much longer'.

'Where will you go?' Arthur asked. 'What will you do? You know, for food, and shelter…'

'I'll get by' she told him, confidently. 'And besides, I've always wanted to look up my mum, but Father never let me. He said she was a no-good whore, but then he was no prize either, so…' she shrugged. 'Guess she's the lesser of two evils… especially if he's mad enough to kill me, after this'.

'We could protect you' Arthur found himself saying. 'Come and stay at the palace for a while. We could find you a job… just so you can stand on your own two feet when you do decide to leave'.

She appeared to consider this. 'I don't know ', she said, finally. 'Can I think about it? I mean, if I decide to come back, will the offer still be open?'

'Absolutely' said Arthur. 'Anytime'. He knew Gwen wouldn't be thrilled with the idea of this little usurper living under the same roof as her man, but Gwen would just have to deal. Besides, Arthur thought, she ought to be happy if I slip a ring on her finger…

'Okay' said Beatrix. 'You're on. Can we go now?'

'Wait a minute'. Arthur turned to the van. 'Is it all in there?'

'Just about' said Galahad. 'They've taken your great aunt Tessie's gold tiara, though'.

'Oh, that ugly old thing? They can have it' said Arthur. 'How much is there? Enough to carry? Or will we have to tow the van back?'

Galahad surveyed the inside of the caravan and shook his head. 'I think we'll have to tow the van back. Jesus, they must have done a few trips back and forth, to collect all this'.

'You'll have to hitch one of your horses to the wagon, then', said Arthur. 'I don't trust this one…' he pointed a thumb over his shoulder at Beatrix, 'To ride it back to the palace on her own. She could take off, again'.

'Yes, Sire' said Galahad.

He turned to Beatrix. 'Well… we don't have a spare horse, so you'll have to ride the wagon with one of my men'.

'Oh, can't I ride with you?'

'Absolutely not'.

'_Why _not?'

'Because I said so, that's why'.

'That's not a good enough reason'.

'My Lord' Gawain interrupted, 'It's getting late, and cold. If we don't get the horses back to the stable, they'll freeze. We might, too'

Arthur sighed, and glanced down at Beatrix, who was hitting him with the best puppy-dog eyes she could muster. '_Please_?'

He groaned and rolled his eyes. 'Oh, all right! Whatever! Get on'.

'Cool' she grinned, and pulled herself up onto his horse. It was a snug fit, with two people in the saddle. Which no doubt suited her just fine! She wound her arms around his waist, and he could feel her pressing herself against him, even through his chain mail. It was disturbing, but kind of flattering at the same time. He hoped he wouldn't end up regretting this!

'Hold on tight' he told her. 'Alright, men, let's move out'.

Gaius made his way down to his dungeon where he kept all the strongest, most potent ingredients for his spells, tinctures and potions. There has to be something in here that can undo the magic done on the king, he thought. Not that anyone seems to _want_ him back to his old self…

He stopped in front of the large pantry and pondered one possible future for a moment. Without Uther, Come-a-lot could go back to the days before the Great Purge, when people didn't have to live in fear of being found out as witches or heretics. They could practice magic to their heart's content. And more importantly, Merlin would be safe.

That was the deciding factor. Gaius closed the door of his pantry and locked it.

'Sorry, my Lord' he said, aloud. 'But Merlin's life is more important than your sanity'.

He turned and headed down to his favourite basement cell. Frodo the hobbit was spread-eagled on the iron cot inside, naked but for the One Ring around his neck. He started to cower and tried to draw his knees up to protect himself, but the chains binding his feet didn't allow for much movement. Gaius let himself into the cell and approached the cute but terrified little Halfling.

'Thirsty?' he asked.

Frodo nodded. 'Yes'.

Gaius felt the old hunger bite at him, the familiar old fever that made him do terrible things to innocent people, just for the fun of it. Then he looked in the hobbit's big, pretty eyes, and remembered a time, not so long ago – in fact, just the other day – when he'd been given a dose of his own medicine. He knew what it was like to be at the mercy of another's evil (well, maybe not so evil, it _was _Merlin, after all) intentions. So instead of doing what he wanted to do (which we won't go into here, because it's far too explicit – not to mention, gross), he went into the next room and got the key to the chains, and let the boy go.

Gaius watched the young hobbit pull on his clothes frantically, and race out the cell before his captor could change his mind.

'Oh well, old chap' he said to himself. 'One day…' *sigh*, 'One day your prince will come'.

And he laughed at his little play on words.

Gwen felt the mattress behind her dip with extra weight, and suddenly Arthur's strong arms were around her. 'Did you find the Leylands?' she murmured, half asleep.

'No such luck. But we did find Beatrix. I mean, Bella'.

Gwen didn't reply. Uh-oh, Arthur thought.

'We couldn't just leave her out there, Gwen. She stole the loot from her father and uncle. They're going to be plenty angry, if or when they catch up with her'.

Gwen turned toward him. 'That's why I love you, you know? You _care_. Your father would have left her out there, to rot'.

'I know' said Arthur, thoughtfully. 'Do you think he'll ever be the same again?'

'I don't know' admitted Gwen. 'I'm not a physician, but Gaius says the prognosis isn't good. We ought to look at getting him long term care'.

'What, stick him in Broadmoor?' Arthur asked. 'I don't know if I could do that'.

'We'll see' Gwen assured him. 'I do know one thing. Eris is headed for a padded cell and a 24 hour Thorazine drip. She hasn't stopped buzzing, and she's _still_ catatonic! I wonder what did that to her?'

'Who knows' said Arthur, slipping a hand down beneath the sheets, until Gwen gasped and giggled. 'Arthur! We're trying to have a serious conversation, here!'

'Not anymore' Arthur laughed. 'Time for seriousness is tomorrow. For now, the new King of Come-a-lot's going to do something the old king never did – or at least, not to my knowledge, thank god for that'.

'Oh? What's that?'

'Thank one of his servants for her loyal service' said Arthur, before diving under the covers…

THE END

**Epilogue**

_So all's well that ends well in the kingdom of Come-a-lot. The people have a new king, who is just, and loyal, and "hawt as" (which of course is the most important thing, if you ask Beatrix, who has finally learned to accept her crappy name, but has shortened it to Bea). _

_Uther is sitting in a comfy armchair at Broadmoor Lunatics Asylum, painting pictures of pretty purple ladies and re-learning to tie his shoe-laces, while Merlin has taken up with an old flame, the shapeshifter, Freya._

_Gwen and Arthur marry, of course – it's part and parcel of the whole Knights of the Kind of Round but Slightly Oblong Table legend – and are shagging like rabbits, hoping to bring an heir (or heiress) into the world. _

_Morgana and Lancelot broke up sadly, but she's now dating a Druid and Lance, as Morgana has taken to calling him, has just been made the caretaker of Come-a-lot while Arthur prepares to fulfil his lifelong dream of going on a quest to find the Holy Grail. And the rest, as you know, is down to myth and legend…_


End file.
